The Big Cs

There are two big Cs in my life. One is Prostate Cancer and the two life-changing medications which are keeping it more or less subdued. I have little control over what happens in the cells that are running riot inside me. I know that I have to simply get on with life and let it take its course as it will. I am grateful for every new day that Bev and I both wake in the morning.
The other Big C for me is the church. Not the denomination whose lifeblood still flows, but more faintly these days, in my veins. Not the national organisation that is now flailing around trying to find to solution to the countless problems that it faces. My other Big C is the little congregation in Kings Rd.
Here I am counted among a couple of dozen who find that they cannot do without what we offer each other on Sunday mornings. Here we live out a corporate life of worship and service in a context that has never been sympathetic and supportive. Here we struggle with our different beliefs and ways of doing things. But here, week by week, we are stimulated and inspired by gifts of imagination, art, music and word.
In this little Big C there is also no guarantee for our future. We know it isn't forever. We live a Sunday at a time. And as we meet together, we are grateful for each other and a God-shaped dream that bears us up.