Singing for my local parish church

During the Christmas, I volunteered to sing for my local Church of England parish Church at their Carol of 9 Lessons. It was a very beautiful experience.

As a non-christian but a Jesus follower, you may wonder why I attend churches – or religious places – a lot. But my main focus and appeal, is seeing people come together and foster communual friendship and be of support to one another. Hence I volunteer at another local parish church in Mitcham as the Amateur Choirmaster and Junior Church leader for the past 3 years. So I go to Church every Sunday… and robe as a chorister too.

So having volunteered for Christmas carol at my own local church, I was asked if I could help sing at their once-a-month Evensong; they desperately need a tenor voice. I obliged. By the way, I love original Anglican Sung services.

The first was on the 3rd of January 2016, I kept my word and went along. At that service, the following beautiful sermon was given by the Licensed Lay Minister. It’s not the religious aspects that appeal to me, but the engagement and narratives, of the humility and undemanding nature of the characters; mainly, Mary the mother of Jesus… I wish many Christians would learn to do the same. But then, that is why I am not a Christian as it has become more about institution, reputation and power instead of service, love and support. Hope you find the sermon useful, no matter your belief… I have carefully coloured my best bits

“Sermon Evensong 3 January 2016 – John 2 1-11”

“It is all too tempting to use prayer to dictate to God or present him with a wish list.”

Lands End…

www.bmycharity.com/godwyns4BSO.

Arrived Lands End ok. Youth Hostel in St Just was great though in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no shops nearby. Well; the nearest shops are in the town centre which is about 1 mile away.

Interesting enough, we met others – a pair and a quartet – doing the same trip. Each has their own different plan; makes

‘On yer bike’ – Tony Blakeburn relaxed style (2nd part)

“Through the wind and the rain and up the hills sheer guts, determination, and teamwork got us all through.”  Amazing saying true saying as Tony continues the story. Enjoy it

Day 3 – Arras to Compiegne – 80 miles

They said that this would be an easier day – oh – they were so wrong!!!. This was the day when all of us felt it – even the experienced bikers who were fit, fast and had the latest technology bikes suffered as, during the afternoon the winds blew and the rains came.

It has started out so nicely as well!! We were scheduled to

‘On yer bike’ – Tony Blakeburn relaxed style

Today, we read the account of the trip from Tony blakeburn’s experience. tony’s account gave it a relaxed demeanor which seems to be how everyone did the 300miles pedalling regardless of the hills and winds. Enjoy this.

Day 1 – London to Dover -70 miles:

At 7.00 a.m Wednesday July 22^nd,  to a cacophony of clicking pedals, cleats and gear changes,  Bexley was woken to the sounds of 135 cyclists of all ages sizes and shapes making their way on the first stage of their trip to Paris raising funds for Christian Aid. Adorned with more lycra than a Rosemary Conley factory outlet the intrepid bikers were soon travelling through the Medway towns in the 

The view from Team Xtreme (or the view from the back) – Martyn Ellis writes

Here is an almost poetic account by Martyn Ellis. I love this story because it tells the tale of 300 miles, 4 days pedalling, hills and valleys and gusts and rain in a capsule. What a beautiful writer. Thanks Martyn and hope y’all enjoy it. Comments allowed

What an experience?  From the nervous faces and apprehensive jokes in a hotel car park in Bexley, to the hardened faces of the grizzled veterans assembled on the Trocadero, who could have believed that 4 days of cycling could bring about such change.

Lifelong friendships forged in the crucible of a headwind. The shouting; the encouragement; the determination to not abandon the task we had set ourselves.

An idiot in a pink tutu; colourful relief on a grey rainy morning in Calais. Allez allez; courage, mon ami.

Just one more hill to go. And then another, and another. Past a war grave; and then another, and another.

60 miles on the final day. How we laughed at the thought. Chasing a tandem that went from zero to flying in an instant. Stopping the traffic on the Champs and around the Arc. But we didn’t want to stop.

This year was just the beginning, there is always next year . . .
Same time, same place. Shall we?