It’s 1:30 am and I’ve just finished cleaning the bathroom. Because what else would I do in the middle of the night? I’m not on speed, just insomnia. Lying in bed and not sleeping is soooo boring. I hope I don’t wake up my flatmates crashing around. They say they can’t hear anything through the really thick concrete walls of the church, but at this time of the night everything sounds so alarmingly loud.
I had a bath, before cleaning it. I don’t usually have baths, but this is my second since moving here. I think it’s cos the Hutt is so damn cold, and our shower such a pathetic dribble, a bath is the best way to thaw out. This morning my windscreen was frosted over, so I poured two litres of water over it, and the water just froze. I had to scrape it off with a bit of plastic. My dad tells me that where I was born there were always ice-scrapers at the checkout, along with the candy and cigarettes. So really I should feel right at home. Which led to me Googling and finding these winter pictures of my state of origin... aren’t they stunning. Makes me want to go there. Like, in time for the next winter. Actually, Dan’s photos make me want to go to Florida and Utah too.
Bob, on the other hand, takes lots and lots of pictures of signs, that don't make me want to go anywhere.
We had decent frosts in Rotorua, but living in Wellington has softened me. I still love that crisp fresh feeling. For some reason it always feels like easter, that early morning thrill, knowing that sweet treasures were waiting to be discovered.
Anyway, in the bath I was reading Birthed from the Womb of God, a lectionary for women, compiled by Rev Dorothy Harvey. Dorothy is one of my colleagues at St Andrew’s, and she gave me the book ages ago, but I haven’t read much of it until now. It’s awesome! I’m doing some preparation for the SCM Australia women’s conference, which I am going to in a few days. The Aotearoa contingent are meant to be doing a presentation on women in Aotearoa, and a women-themed bible study. I am realising how little I actually know of the bible. I’ve learned a lot teaching the rainbow room. But when I’m asked to think of a woman to profile, my mind goes blank. All I can think of is Eve, Mary & Mary. And then some other names come to mind. Sarah. Hagar. Ruth. But their stories are blurred and vague in my mind. Oh dear, I’m such a fraud. I hope this post doesn’t get used against me...
Anyway, Dorothy’s book is filled with interesting stuff I never knew or thought about. And this cool poem by Francis C Frank, 17th Century Roman Catholic Priest:
did the woman say
when she held him for the first time
in the dark dank of a stable
after the pain and bleeding and the crying
‘this is my body this is my blood?’
did the woman say
when she held him for the last time
in the dark rain on a hilltop
after the pain and the bleeding and the dying
‘this is my body, this is my blood?’
Well that she said it to him then,
for dry old men,
brocaded robes belying barrenness
ordain that she not say it for
him now.
