My last Sunday in the parish has been and gone. It was, as anticipated, an emotional day. Even the work of planning and preparation could not lessen the sadness of leaving. Even the many lovely memories and friendships that will continue could not stop some tears. Laughter and tears, tea, cake and wine, music and chat. Lovely! So it is and so it will be.

Now we await the movers to do their blissful (from my point of view!) work of packing up our home, non-judgementally taking care of precious and mundane objects alike.


In a desperate attempt to wrest some control over the chaos of moving, I tidy another drawer, and put some words together:

Closing the door behind me,

I leave the familiar.

Smiles hint at the loss.

I learn by going where I need to go.

I leave the familiar.

Opening my eyes,  a new beauty emerges.

I learn by going where I need to go.

A stranger, finding my voice.

Opening my eyes, a new beauty emerges.

Smiles hint at the loss for

A stranger. Finding my voice,

I close the door behind me.


The line “I learn by going where I need to go” comes from Theodore Roethke’s poem ‘The Waking’.