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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.

Engagment: A treasure hunt round Durham

Two weeks ago, Nathan asked me to marry him! I can't say that it was much of a surprise, because as ordinands we both needed permission from our Bishops to get engaged. As I wrote to the Bishop of Southwell and Nottingham 2 weeks earlier, I knew it couldn't be far away. Nathan had also requested that I keep the 5th November free, and so I did.

I woke up on the Saturday morning and we had a chilled morning watching Gavin and Stacey and drinking the new coffee that I had purchased the day before. I went for my shower and Nathan disappeared. I pottered around in my room tidying up and filing until he returned at about 2.15. 

He walked into my room and gave me a white envelope with some instructions inside! The envelope had been wax sealed and the paper had a gold embossed 'P' at the top. 

So, I was going on a treasure hunt! Nathan had left 9 other clues scattered about the city, and I needed a pen, journal, coat, phone, earphones and Bible! There was also an old looking (stained with tea, I think) map stuck to my door. 

Upon reading the first clue, I excitedly kicked off my slippers and gathered together the suggested items. I knew in my giddiness I was likely to have forgotten something so I checked, double checked and triple checked that I had everything I needed with me before heading out. Here I am, ready to go on a treasure hunt!

So the first clue sent me to my pigeon hole in the Common Room where many a happy hour has been spent! Next, I went to the Leech Hall where we have our lectures, College Communion and parties! After one memorable night out, Nath and I ended up in Leech Hall dancing to no music. Another great spot for a treasure hunt clue, and this time, a bar of chocolate was attached to it!

As if I needed an excuse to go, this envelope said 'you owe your birthday saint a visit'! St Cuthbert is buried in Durham Cathedral and his feast day is my birthday. This has always spoke very powerfully to me, and helped me decide to move to Durham in the first place. I got there and hunted high and low for another clue, and I definitely know all the crooks and crannies of that Chapel now! After texting for some more help, I found the clue hidden under the altar (it turns out that if you speak to the head Sacriston, they can show you the best hiding places!)! There was another bar of chocolate and I sat to join in with the prayers that took place at 3pm.

After visiting my favourite spot in Durham Cathedral, I was sent to 'the place of beer, not of books' which can only mean Durham Library pub, which I always love going to. Nathan and I ended up in here after our second date. I asked behind the bar and the man gave me my next envelope, which contained another clue and a tenner for lunch! As I scoffed my bbq pulled pork topped fries and Crazy Goat Cider  (another favourite, only usually found at Greenbelt!) I had a chance to go through and read my clues again, and to look up the Bible verses that were included in them. 

Next, I was to go to the other kind of library. There is only one person that I would go to the library for on a day off, I can tell you!! But the 20 minute walk there was completely worth it to find the next clue hidden in my favourite book which had been planted on a shelf. 

At this point we're only half way through and I can feel myself getting very excited and wanting to get to the remaining clues as quickly as possible! I headed back into the middle of town to my favourite cake shop where the next clue was waiting for me in a bag complete with a piece of red velvet cake! I was supposed to sit and eat this but it was cold and I wanted to crack on! So I had a selfie with the lovely cake ladies and went on my way.

The next two clues were a little harder to find because they were outside and therefore were well hidden! Clue 8 was hidden at the bus stop where Nathan picked me up from giving blood, and clue number 9 was hidden under the steps on the way to the railway station where we have been on so many adventures together already. It took me much longer to find these, but like the genius he is, Nathan had put them inside plastic wallets so that they wouldn't get wet if it rained.

The last clue took me to Starbucks where the envelope was behind the counter with a £10 note, presumably for a drink. 

However the letter said 'when you're ready, come and find me on Prebends bridge'. So I skipped the drink and took myself down the river to the bridge in question. When there, Nathan got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said yes, and gave him his ring too! We then wandered back to Starbucks for a drink to warm up before getting in a taxi to go for a meal at the restraunt where we had our first date. 

It was a truly magical day, with so many bits designed beautifully to make me smile! It was all so creative, and it was such a joy to be a part of!

There's a lot more to the day than what I have described above, so as I process I will form another blog about engagement, and God's hand within the day.

Also, thanks to Durham Cathedral, The Library Durham, Sweet Tooth Durham and Durham Starbucks for helping to facilitate our day!

When the fire all but died

I have been trying to avoid writing this blog for some weeks. But after several 'coincidences' over the past 2 weeks, I'm taking the plunge. So here is the warning: this is going the be a brutally honest post.

Prayer. Talking to God.

Prayer. Giving space for God to talk to you.

Prayer. A somewhat crucial part of being a church leader.

When I went to my Vicar Interview (Bishop's Advisory Panel) in January 2015, I received the following feedback: 'There is a certain naivety in the way that Poppy suggests that prayer 'works'.' This has become a bit of a joke amongst my close friends because how dare someone hoping to be selected to go to Vicar School suggest that prayer works?  How utterly ridiculous to confidently assert that you think that there is a point to talking to God when you would like to lead a church in the future.

Well, the joke is now on me. Kind of.

I have been hugely affected by the death of a young woman who I never met. I won't go into much detail about how silly I feel about this, considering I never met her, but nevertheless, after 2 years of praying for healing it did not happen. 5 weeks before her death, I saw my Mum in hospital tied up to all kinds of tubes, unable to speak, with a very swollen face. She is now, thankfully, better. But these two events brought me face to face with suffering in a way that I am yet to get over.

Added to this, being constantly soaked in theology, Church services and passionate debate at Vicar School has left me somewhat numb to it all. In my previous patches of struggle in my spiritual life, I have moved past it by a close encounter with God in church. But at Vicar School, church happens every day and the depths of my confusion and pain are yet to be overcome.

The link between prayer and the death of a young women I never met is this: the world is a mess and people die unjustly. I cannot change that, but I know and believe someone can (that's God, by the way). So what is he playing at?

I do not believe that God needed another angel.
I do not believe that God made this happening to prevent further suffering because the God I love wouldn't slowly kill someone with a terminal illness for two years in order to save them from pain later on.
I do not believe that this suffering has taught us any lessons that were worth learning compared to the pain caused.

I wrote my undergraduate dissertation on The Problem of Evil and came to the conclusion that this an important question to ask, but it's what we do about the suffering that matters. Yeah, good 'un Pops, but what can be done about this kind of suffering? I am helpless to prevent this kind of suffering, and loss of life like that is just wasteful. I've gone round in circles for months and I've been in a bit of a rut. I'm left with nothing but a stubborn kind of conscientiousness in which this trainee vicar is at a loss about what to say to God. But I plod on anyway because I refuse to do this vicar thing without integrity, and if I'm not at least trying to pray then what is the point?

But that doesn't mean to say that there haven't been special moments between last December and now, because there have. Several Bible readings, worship songs, Church services, conversations with people I love and humbling encounters with congregation members have really touched my heart. Greenbelt was great, Thy Kingdom Come was great, placement was great, Holy Week was great, Christmas was great and weekly College Communion is pretty much always great. But nothing has yanked me out of this theological hole that I've been exploring and getting to know quite well.

I'm used to spiritual storms. Storms, I can do. It's the drought that is new. Feeling like my prayers are hitting the ceiling and falling to the floor with a kind of limp, near lifeless thud. I've been feeling like everything is dry, old and cracked. I've had to do a lot of discerning over the past year, but I've been leaning on my past experiences and been having dealings with God is a more military fashion. 'What do you want me to do next, Sir?' as I stood to spiritual attention and awaited the next command. The result is that I've followed to directions given, but my relationship with God has not deepened. Like I said, it's very dry and barren at the moment, but I do feel like I'm moving forward. I may be heading out of the desert or I might be heading into yet more desert, I can't tell other than I am in fact, moving.

But there is hope, as this morning's Bible reading reminds us:

'The desert and the parched land will be glad;
The wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like a crocus, it will burst into bloom;
It will greatly rejoice and shout for joy...
Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.
The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where the jackals once lay,
Grass and reeds and papyrus will grow' (Isaiah 35. 1-2, 6-7)

When I was on placement over the summer, I expressed a little of what I've written about here and what advised to read 'God on Mute' which, conveniently, I was given about 18 months ago and have been meaning to read ever since. I have begun reading this book, and I think it's going to help. I just wanted to capture this feeling so that I could encourage myself should it ever happen again.

And what if 'God on Mute' doesn't help? Well I'll keep going and pushing forwards with that stubborn conscientiousness until something works, because I know something will at some point.

Ultimately, I like to think that what my Mum says is true. She says that when it comes to God, we get points for trying.

11 months later...

Rather embarrassingly, I haven't blogged in 11 months. 

The aim was to blog about Vicar School as it happened and keep a record of all that went on throughout the year. But what I actually have is a brain full of slightly jumbled memories and a vibrant Facebook photo album called 'Vicar School'- no blogs in sight!

So I sit here in Grantham train station about to start my final week of my last block placement of College, first pumpkin spiced latte of the season in hand, 9 months of training left, with one main question: how the hell did that happen?! 

The truth is that so much has happened that I haven't had much change to give any thought to my 'ordinand adventures' blog. And much as I'd like to promise that this coming year will be different, I can't.  So I just thought I'd throw down a few ideas about the last year while I had a spare half an hour before final year starts. 

So, a whistle stop tour of my first year of training, by Poppy Richards:

-I arrived at College and the first two weeks were an exhausting blur of new friends, new rules, new jargon and too many carbs (see previous post).

-I started placement on Sundays and Fridays in a brilliant Church which was higher than anything I've ever worked in before. I was involved in a funeral service for the first time, which I found to be a hugely moving experience.

-Before we knew it we were at our first year weekend away. This is where we gave up our day off to spend time together in a retreat house thinking about formation, playing card games and finally learning everyone's name!

-Then we rolled into November where Durham was filled with light and millions of people for Lumiere. But despite the excellent display of lights, my body was present in Durham when my mind and heart were not. My excellent family rallied together as my Mum had surgery and, yet again, astounded us all at her resilience and strength. #hero

-In our Mission lecture, we were sent out in pairs to proclaim the Good News. There is only so much time you can spend talking about something before you are itching to get on and do it!

-Cranmer hosted an women's conference, Named, Known and Called, where I sang in the band. Watching a room full of women sing 'you have our hearts, Lord, take our lives' truly renewed my faith in the Church and still gives me heaps of hope for the future. 

-We slid quickly into December where Durham got COLD and spirits were high. John's Music Night, where talent was dripping from the walls, reminded me why I'd chosen to come to Cranmer in the first place. The undergrad and postgrad students (non ordinands) that we share a College with can enrich training so much if we let it. They are excellent. 

-Term finished with a service in he Cathedral and a Cranmer Party. Strangers a term ago were now best friends and I left Durham for the holidays both bursting with joy, and tired to my core! 

In and amongst all that, I had fallen in love (yuck, vom, gross, cringe, slush. Yeah, I get it, and I didn't see it coming either). But the new year didn't bring the usual resolutions and heart ache (January and February have been particularly difficult months over the past few years). Instead it brought sunlight shimmering, strawberry ice cream, all encompassing joy in the form of a relationship with my boyfriend, Nathan.

-Straight to work though, the day after we got together I preached on placement, videoed myself and the had to critique myself in an essay. This is not an experience I wish to repeat- hearing myself preach on video was weird and awkward. 

-In February I found myself in Prison for the weekend (!) with others on my course, leading a group of men in a Faith Sharing Weekend based on the Psalms. 

-In March placement wound up, Easter came and I ran for an Exec position in College. I get to help out both the Cranmer and the St John's Common Rooms by acting as the point of communication between them and encouraging inter Common Room relations. 

Final term was a weird blur with block teaching and all kinds of different things. There was Sex & Gender, diversity week, a placement in a school, a week in a monetary, mission in Newcastle Cathedral on referendum day and, of course, lots of goodbyes followed by the ordinations of some of the best men and women that I know. 

Just before I wrap up, I may as well cover summer while I'm at it! 3 weddings, a hospital placement, a Parish placement, a festival, birthday parties and curacy visits. 

So there you have it. To quote Rent (a musical reference, of course!), how do you measure a year like that? 

Cups of tea? Midnight theological conversations?Stones gained through College food and a boyfriend who makes you happy? Essays? Grades? Songs sung? People reached? Hearts touched? Miles travelled? Sermons preached? Friends made?

It can't be done, such a year cannot be measured. But I can say that gradually, but by bit, I have been stretched, formed, molded and changed by the things seen and experienced this last year. Sometimes you don't realise how far you've come until you look back to where you started from. 

Thank you, Cranmer Hall. 

I have arrived!

Apologies for not posting sooner but these past 14 days have been a lovely, slightly manic, information filled, tea fuelled blur. But today us first years officially finished induction- thank The Lord! So today seems as good a day as any to jot down a few thoughts about vicar school so far.

Firstly, I had the best moving in day ever. We arrived, parked and began to unload the stuff into the hallway when a small troop of Cranmerites arrived to help me move in! They took all my things up the 3 (yes, THREE!) flights of stairs to my room! What could have been a really stressful and physically exhausting day for me and Dad was a dream (for us anyway, not sure how the helpers, Gareth, Toby, Nathan and Caitlin, feel about this). This is one of the the best examples I can give to show how friendly and generous Cranmer Hall is.

Another thing I've noticed is that theological college doesn't have the same 'every man for himself' vibe that Uni had. What I mean by this is that we no longer go into a bar or a shop and just buy drinks or whatever for ourselves. People are generous, happy to share, hold doors open for each other, clear each other's plates and say 'hello' in the corridor. This really helps to strengthen the community feel of the college.

That being said, living in University halls comes with it's challenges. Needless to say, the 6am fire drill in the rain was one of them!

But living in College means that I'm fully catered and the food here is absolutely wonderful! It's tasty, fresh and there are loads of options at every meal. There is just one problem... There's far too much of it! I suspect that I am now eating double the amount of food that I was eating when I was at home, and we Richards' are Hobbits when it comes to our love of food! Expect a blog on the difficulty of motivating oneself to exercise in the coming weeks. To add to the food issue, my room is probably a 4 minute walk away from most of my lectures. Like the food, this is very convenient but not especially good for my figure!

On my interview day back in February, I was struck by how many children and families of ordinands were around in College. I loved the dynamic that the children brought to my first stay at Cranmer and now that I've been here a couple of weeks I can really see how rich the community is because of them! One of my favourite times of the week has to be All Age worship where getting on for 20 children, their families and anyone else who wants to have a really fun and engaging service in the Chapel. This week we got given pegs that said 'you are God's child, he loves you ' on them to peg to each other! Whats not to love?!

Sometimes you land in a new place and it seems like all the tough moments up until that point were so worth it. Now, don't get me wrong, I really did love my time in London. But do I think it's easier to feel at home in some environments than others. I feel like I belong here because I can be who I am, wear what I want to wear and talk how I want to talk. There are so many different people around, and I feel no pressure to make myself like anyone else (apart from Jesus, of course!). I think that Cranmer Hall is the best place for me to be formed for the next phase of my life.