This morning we were in York, having had a lovely weekend with friends. It culminated this morning in the baptism of the two children of friends. It was a really special occasion, a lovely service and a fantastic occasion. Jacky and I are godparents (one to each of the newly baptised) and I preached (not too badly). Joy was very much the note of the day.
But this evening there were tears. Kathy, a friend and member of the congregation, died very suddenly on Wednesday night. This evening there were prayers and time to remember Kathy in church. There is still no explanation for her death. We last saw Kathy on Monday at Greenbelt. She came bounding over and gave me a huge hug. She was full of stories about her trip to Uganda. Kathy was full of life, that's the phrase on lots of people's lips at the moment. Kathy was in Edinburgh with us for the Make Poverty History march. We have a photo of her with a pair of MPH pants on her head. I'd like to say something profound here, but I still find it hard to grasp that she's dead.