Chancel Guild and Iona

I’ve now been a member of our parish Chancel Guild for over a year. I go to the church every six weeks and polish brass, trim candles, arrange flowers and set the table for the Eucharist. That’s what we do physically, but there is much more to it than that. I go to learn. I go to hear the stories of the church politics, and try to help heal the hurt feelings when someone wasn’t asked to help out with this, or when someone feels like they are the ONLY one who is ever asked to do that. To help people understand that the flowers behind the altar don’t have to look like they just leapt out of an FTD catalogue, but instead are part of their offering to God. I have to say I don’t usually say much on these days – today was no exception. But I do listen.

I’m also thinking of my friends tonight as they board a plane bound for Glasgow. Tomorrow they will find themselves able to dip their toes in the great North Sea and walk along the paths of St. Columba on the holy isle of Iona. Climb to the top of “Dun I” and simply be. As is tradition (albeit for me only a 2 year old tradition!) I have sent one of my Iona stones, filled with my regrets of the last year back to the holy isle to be thrown into the sea. I miss that place.

Here is my favourite photo from there.
Columba’s Bay, my heart yearns to go back, for I miss my home.

In Iona of my heart, Iona of my love,
Instead of monks' voices shall be lowing of cattle,
But ere the world come to an end
Iona shall be as it was