This evening, I had a rare invitation to preach outside the Parish at a Christian Unity Week service for the Lower Rhondda Council of Churches at St Paul's Porth. I drove up there in driving rain and darkness, not quite certain that I knew exactly where the church was. Last time I preached there was about 25 years ago on a Parish visit as USPG area secretary, so I had a vague memory that the church was up on the hillside to the right above the town centre. I was delighted that from this recollection I was able to find the place without stopping. The fact that the church windows were brightly lit standing out in the darkness helped, naturally.
About two dozen faithful and five of us clerics turned out on this horrible night. I was impressed by their commitment. Afterwards, two people separately told me that they recalled my last visit to the Parish, and still recognised me, despite my white hair. One lady also told me that she was a visitor to St John's tea room whenever she was in town. That was pleasing. It was good to have a reminder of my past life as an itinerant preacher. I guess it's something I may do more of once I'm settled in retirement.
About two dozen faithful and five of us clerics turned out on this horrible night. I was impressed by their commitment. Afterwards, two people separately told me that they recalled my last visit to the Parish, and still recognised me, despite my white hair. One lady also told me that she was a visitor to St John's tea room whenever she was in town. That was pleasing. It was good to have a reminder of my past life as an itinerant preacher. I guess it's something I may do more of once I'm settled in retirement.
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