Definitely not the best father in the world

A week has passed since Father's day and my father's present, ordered from America, still has not arrived (sorry dad). He would say that the best present was spending the weekend together, I am inclined to agree as all my girls were here too. One thing I can never bring myself to do is to write 'to the best ... in the world' this is true of my father, mother, wife and children and I have to check the cards to make sure that they don't make this empty statement. It is not to say that I undervalue those whom I love but to say you are the best father is the world would be just about impossible to me. I have checked my cards, home-made by my girls, and I am delighted to say that although they are lovely sentiments they have learnt from me .. there if not a single 'best' amongst them.

Now you might suggest that I am a bit of a cold fish about this and you might be right, however with any statement I make I try to make sure that is is honest and it is true, it is about integrity- well-meaning inaccuracy, however well intentioned is just not good enough.Actually if I call my father 'the best in the world' or if my children (now that they are old enough to understand) did the same to me then it almost undervalues the true relationship.Of course in some senses I am the best father to my children, as I am their only father. That logic also means I am the worst father, that is certainly not true!

Today Sharon and I completed the Torbay half marathon, two laps taking in Paignton and Torquay, great atmosphere and perfect weather. I did not win the £400 first prize and neither did I come last, I was not best nor worst and yet I did beat my previous best time by something like 2 mins - yes a PB! It is not much and due to technical difficulties the race organisers have yet to publish the results, but this was the best I had ever run, I still think that there were a thousand people before me.

One of the problems with me calling my dad 'the best dad' is that it makes the statement relative (forgive the pun); as if being 'the best dad' was a competition and the best being the only winner and by default making the rest losers. Yet today, despite hundreds ahead of me I WAS a winner, I have a medal to prove it and no one can take away from me, that, today I ran the best I have ever run.

I try to be the best dad I can be and I reckon that is all I can do, I am also thankful that my father gave his best to me so that I would not do him the injustice of calling him 'the best dad in the world'.

Running faster than the speed limit

Friday was a ten mile run, the last 'long' run before the Torbay half marathon. Running back from Broadclyst towards Pinhoe there is an electronic sign that flashes 'slow down' if you go faster that 30 miles per hour. As Sharon and I ran towards it, uphill, it flashed at us. First a moment of astonishment, then wonderment and a flash of pride, at this rate we could each run the Olympic marathon winning gold medals in the men's and women's events respectively, smashing both world records. As I looked over my shoulder to smile at Sharon, half a pace behind, a motorbike sped by. The warning signal, taken not as a warning by us but as a  marker of our athletic prowess and achievement, was not for us, it was coincidental. I suspect that the guy on the motorbike was likely going too fast to spot the sign that was actually for him.

It has been a funny few weeks, my application for the job of minister of Cranbrook was successful, and I start the position at the end of August. It all feels like a bit of a dream, I genuinely never expected to get the job and, as a result, kept as quiet as I could about it. Now that the reality has set in and I know that my ten year association with Wonford and my new link with Lymspstone will come to an end it all feels rather surreal. It is also all going to happen very quickly. I wish that there was some way that I could have given more notice, flashed a warning sign. I didn't because I didn't feel that I would get the job so now feel a little guilty. This is all exacerbated by my still being on sabbatical and my inability to convey my thoughts and feelings personally as the two congregations  also start to come to terms with what this all means.

But then there is this, and I am reluctant to say it  for I am loathed to think that God might treat me any better than anyone else (in fact I am sure that he doesn't). Yet I am compelled to say it. If I am honest I can see God's hand in all that has happened to bring us to this place; and this place, and that feeling that God has a plan for us is immensely exciting and immensely humbling. As I look back over the last few years of my ministry, with all of its interesting twists and turns, it seems that I have been prepared in a way that I could not have anticipated nor dreamed of planning. I can see God's hand in this, I really can.

But am I reading the right signs? Are the lights flashing for me or do they just flash with what coincides with where I am? Ultimately this question is impossible to answer, the element of subjectivity disallows anyone from seeing the world from my perspective. So that is what I must do, see the world from my perspective. And I see God's hand in this and to deny what I see would be to deny my experience and ultimately to deny me. I am reminded by Isaiah 6:5 "Woe to me!" I cried. "I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty."

And so I stand, as one unclean and unworthy, yet for what I have seen I am thankful, for it is what I have seen. And for what is to come I am hopeful, for Wonford, for Lympstone, and for Cranbrook.