Magic, misery and meals

Has it really been that long since I last blogged? Doesn't time fly?

Quick catch-up then.

Sunday began with a Salvation Army major doing magic and ended with a 'communion wine' toast. No, strictly speaking it ended with The Village, the Sunday night BBC drama. It was the final episoe and it was rather a relief to get to the end: it was very black, physically and emotionally. In fact, they could have saved themselves some money by filming it in black and white, and they must have been penny-pinching because, if they were paying by word, they certainly didn't spend much on script. Most of the time viewers had to interpret significant looks to understand what was going on, which was fine if you interpreted correctly; not so good if you got it wrong. I have a feeling it will be back again with another series, which, no doubt, I will feel obliged to watch and Husband will have to put up with my regular, 'I really don't know what's going on in this,' comments. (He didn't watch it.)

But back to the magic. The Sally Army chaplain took the prison service and I have to admit I was so intent on his magic that I wasn't really listening to what he said. Which probably wasn't the idea, but it was amazing. Simple probably but I have no idea how he could flick through what appeared to be a child's colouring book to show blank pages followed by the next flick through where the pages had outline drawings followed by another flick through with full colour pictures. 

Then it was the first Sunday of the month tribal gathering in Zac's and as we were looking at 'Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,' we shared a meal together, rounded off with a raising of glasses.

I found out this afternoon that I'm leading the bible study this evening - or rather I volunteered as Sean has had reverse root canal work done today. But it's the final chapter of 1 Peter and is reasonably straight-forward so will be fine. (I am confident.)