Dear Friends,

Some years ago when I was sharing a house with some friends in Hampshire we set off to go to church one Sunday morning and found that our normal route along the wintry country lanes was blocked by an accident. It wasn’t particularly serious and we could see that nobody had been hurt so we turned around and headed for a different road. A mile or two further on and we found that the second road had been closed for some pipes to be laid so we were faced with an even longer detour to get to our destination. You can probably imagine the bizarre mix of frustration and hilarity we experienced when we found that our third, and most circuitous route yet, was also blocked although I can’t remember what the problem there was now. At that point we had to get out the road atlas (no satnav in those days) and find another way to the church. Finally we arrived with only a minute to spare before the service started stressed, out of breath from our uphill jog from the parking space, having travelled nearly 20 miles further than was normally necessary. As we burst through the big heavy wooden door of the old church I remember someone muttering, “Somebody didn’t want us to get here this morning.” To complete the picture you should know that the driver of the car was also the organist for the service so his attendance was kind of imperative. Suffice it to say that we all found worship very difficult that morning....(continued on the first page)