What a day.
Church was great this morning- I love the morning service with all the kids running around. I like it when there's a baby looking over their father's shoulders a few rows in front giving me an excuse to make silly faces throughout the preach. One of the most beautiful moments was when it was time to respond, and a woman left her young son in order to go to the front... He just looked hopefully at her. Eventually, he took her hand and they both trotted off to kneel in front of the cross together. I welled up. Love it.
It's not been a good day mystery illness-wise...but it's okay. I was slow walking to church, and a man started talking to me in the dodgy area, and I knew that because I felt so rough, I wouldn't be able to escape as easily as usually I'd be confident of doing. So instead we talked for fifteen minutes. He tried to make me get in his van. When will I learn? I hate that I'm learning to be cynical. Realistic, perhaps. My problem in the past is not that I've been naive- I'm well aware that some people have dark intentions- but I have hope in people I guess. I'd rather give them the benefit of the doubt. But now I'm learning. I did not get in his van. Or give him my number. And I probably won't call his. Sad times.
And I've just been at the first of 3 beautiful gigs of March. Newton Faulkner, supported by Charlie Winston. Too tired to do them justice right now, but it was stunning. I've never laughed in joy so much at a gig. I know that my heart is for free, soulful music, pure expression. And fun, pleasure in doing it and sharing it. Perfect. It made me feel lighter. Happy days. And we, being hardcore, took brioche to a gig. I love Jo Beedell.