Simply Alt.Worship

I recently discovered this website

www.alternativeworship.org

which has some wonderful articles and resources for worship, and worship that pushes the boundaries of what is usually encountered in traditional church services. I’m looking forward to getting into this site a lot more in the next few weeks.

I’m really looking forward to the Deep Impact 2005 weekend from 14-16 January. I’m leading one of the sessions about good online Christian resources, and last night the organiser, Iain Clyne, invited me to play bass guitar in the worship band, which is being led by Andy Flannagan. I’m so looking forward to it, and seeing some old friends again, particularly Andrew Howie.

This year my intention is to simplify my life a little more, and get deeper into prayer and worship. The new house should allow me that opportunity to get away from the usual pressures and busy demands of e-mail, and the distractions of my PC.

Cellardyke … lights and action, but no camera!

I forgot my camera. Again! Doh! Tomorrow: I promise, I promise…

While there was no camera, there most certainly were lights. I installed new overhead spotlights in the kitchen, and in the hallway. What a difference. I know that sounds obvious: gosh what a difference when you can see the room you are in, but the new lights have transformed the kitchen.

We also put together three IKEA uplighters (from the Anthrax-esque ‘Not’ range) which we purchased for a cool £5.50 each! The bulbs (energy saving ones) cost more than the actual light … incredible!

We got a lot done in the house today. After five years of marriage Jane and I have finally worked out how to work well together: we don’t! Instead we work to our strengths, which complement one another. I prepare the walls, remove rawlplugs, fill holes and cracks, sand things down, and Jane paints.

We discovered that one of the radiators isn’t working, at all — it could simply need bled — and another is leaking, at least the floor in front of it is wet. We’ll need to get that seen to before we order carpets; which we were hoping to do tomorrow.

We’re getting there. I’ll post some photos at the weekend — while I’m supposed to be writing a sermon!

Do you come here often?

What an odd experience this morning. There’s nothing like a bit of pressure to perform sexually for the medical laboratories, is there! Into a small clinical pot. My word, these doctors certainly know how to make a man feel sexy!

Anyway, I managed it. With my semen sample safely captured, my medical form duly filled in: date, time, date of last ejaculation and an odd question that asked if my sample was complete!? I wrapped the whole sorry lot up in a (comedy) Virgin megastore plastic bag and tucked it away under my oxter (that’s armpit) to keep it at body temperature, and Jane sped us both down the A720 Edinburgh bypass towards the Royal Infirmary.

There’s nothing like the added pressure of leaving home just that bit too late to be sure that you’ll arrive at the hospital well on time. It seems that semen samples are collected on Tuesdays and Thursdays between 08:15 and 09:30 — you get turned away if you come late, if you’ll excuse the expression, and told to come again next week, as it were. (I was doing so well, too, on the innuendo front!)

Jane dropped me off at the Human Fertility department at 09:27. I strode in through the automatic doors — whoosh! — turned left and arrived at a sign saying “Laboratory Reception”, and on the counter was a large polystyrene container: Semen Samples.

I now wish I’d said one of the following, as I handed over the Virgin bag of magic man’s milk:

  • “Excuse me, erm… I found this in the corridor, I think it belongs here…”
  • “Right… I read that I was to keep this at body temperature, so I just topped it up with boiling water, I hope that’s okay…”
  • Look what I made…!”

But I didn’t. I simply told the kind lady behind the counter that my GP had asked me to bring in a semen sample (and not a ‘sermon sample’, which is what I first typed there) and here it was. I did make mention of my ‘comedy’ Virgin bag. Once the lady had checked that the accompanying form was indeed accompanying it, I handed over my tub of genetic material and returned to the street to search for Jane, who’d nipped off to fill the car with petrol (just the petrol tank, actually).

It felt rather weird, that whole experience. But there you go. My semen is now in the hands of some anonymous laboratory assistant. I’ll find out in about ten days time whether I have stupid sperm that is not getting my wife pregnant, or not. (Of course, as I’ve pointed out to Jane, one way I could find out is just sleep with someone else!! Yeah… not a great idea, is it.) I’ll just wait…