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In 2000 classes 3S and 3D went on a Kettlewells double decker bus to Southwell Minster for Time Travelling.

Upon pulling up outside, a 7-year-old me could not remember seeing such a big and beautiful building. When Time Travelling, we joined several hundred other children sitting on the floor of the Minster. I sat on the right and the very front and looked up at Jesus suspended from the ceiling. He seemed so very very high up! We then broke into little groups and learned more about the Minster and Christianity. In one session I had my first taste of a communion wafer and put it in my left hand and ate it like my Mum did in Church.

It was a wonderful day.

Wind forward a few years and I learned that Southwell Minster was the Cathedral for our area. Our area is a called a diocese, which is a bit like a county. The Bishop who lives near the Minster looks after the diocese.

Our diocese, Southwell and Nottingham, has become home for me. It's rare to find a large community of people who are so loving, kind and willing to invest. If it hadn't been for the people of the diocese I wouldn't be getting ordained this month. They believed in me and saw something in me that I could barely see in myself. 

It was such a shock when I was invited to go on the link developing trip the Burundi when I was 19. Me? Really? Would you not rather take someone else? 

No, Bishop Paul B did want me to go. 

But then I needed £1400 to go on the trip. £1400?! How was that ever going to happen?!

Bishop Paul said the money would come.

'It flipping won't' I thought to myself. 'Nobody will give me that kind of money!'

Within 3 weeks of launching the fundraising campaign there was enough money for the trip, my jabs, all the gear I needed and more. So many people were generous, but it was thanks to a lot of people in Southwell and Nottingham diocese that the money was raised. 

I have represented the diocese on the National Youth Council, I have been guided through discerning a call to ordination, I have been on a Vacancy in See Committee, I have been funded through Vicar School, I have had 2 excellent placements, all because of the diocese.

Bishop Paul B, Bishop Tony, Bishop Richard, Bishop Paul W, Rosemary, Phil W, Sue HH, Julia, Tony W, Angela, Naomi, Sarah C, Ade, Alison, the list of people from the diocese who invested in me and have helped make me who I am knows no end.

So it should be no surprise to me that as I head to Liverpool, I do so with excitement, joy, happiness, contentment... and sadness. Saying goodbye to Southwell is going to be hard. But curacy isn't forever, and who knows what the future holds?

But just as the diocese has formed me, one place in particular has done more than that, it has raised me. 

All Halows, Ordsall, it's people and Reverend Sue Caddy are who I owe my biggest thanks to. This Church, this little church in the ever expanding village of Ordsall, is utterly wonderful. I am honoured to have seen it grow over the past 20 years. I have learned how to love people, to grow together, to preach the Good News and to build the kingdom. There is so much going on faithfully, firmly and quietly. Anyone who thinks Church success is just about numbers is wrong. It's about the way Jesus is proclaimed in that context. And believe me, he really is. I'm not saying it's perfect- like every family, it's messy at times! But that Church, and it's leader, are successfully building the Kingdom in Ordsall. And I will aim to copy that example everywhere I go. 

So thank you Southwell and Nottingham, and thank you All Hallows, Ordsall. 

Ricky.

Tonight on the way home from a lovely meal with friends, Nathan and I found ourselves chatting with a man we met a year or so ago. 
We chatted about how we were and listened about how he had just had a tough couple of days. Ricky had got in a scrap and had some money stolen. His beloved guitar had also been broken, which caused him much pain as it was the joy of his life.
As we sat and chatted I noticed the air get cooler. The warm spring evening started to gradually feel less appealing.
We caught up with Ricky for over an hour, listening about his travels and talking about the people we both know.
I noticed that those around us who witnessed this conversation looked uncomfortable. Some looked almost guilty. Some looked in us with pity. Some smiled. But some looked at us, at me when I tried to make eye contact, like absolute filth. I have never in my adult life been looked at in public like something that someone had scraped off their shoe. But I certainly experienced that tonight.

Now for a little more context: our conversation with Ricky took place in the doorway of the Edinburgh Woolen Mill shop. Ricky sat on his sleeping bag whilst Nathan and I sat on the floor. 

We met Ricky when he engaged us in conversation, much like he did tonight, a year ago. We got chatting and spent some time getting to know him. A week later we saw him in York enjoying the sun and playing his drum with some friends. He was a transformed man! I pray for every homeless person I meet and I keep a list of their names in the back of my journal. I have never seen any of them again apart from Ricky, so it was a powerful experience when we met the same man for a third time tonight.

I was dismayed to see him looking so broken. No, I wasn't dismayed, I was heart broken. He's a lovely fella, which is probably why I've found myself easily talking to him for hours at a time more than once! But the locals have been unkind and without his guitar he feels like he has no purpose. 

I think I can understand how situations like this arise through difficult circumstances. I once heard that many of us would be surprised to learn that we are just one pay check away from homelessness. 

But what I do not understand is why so many people either actively sneer at or simply ignore their fellow human beings in front of them. 

I was taught by a wonderful woman, Hannah Moore, how to speak to homeless people a few years ago because I didn't know. It turns out that all you need to do is speak to them like a person. Say hello, introduce yourself and ask them their name. Even if you have nothing to give, that communication is very important to people who are so regularly ignored or treated badly. 

The most moving thing tonight was that when I offered Ricky my hand he tried to wipe his hand on his trousers first to clean it. He needn't have done that. I would rather have slightly grubby hands from engaging with Ricky than clean ones that went about their business as if nothing was wrong.