Hannah: A Story for Mothering Sunday

Posted on March 14, 2026 by 1urcher

Hannah

Reading: 1 Samuel 1

How long O lord will you abandon me for ever? When will you visit me with your grace. Day after day these words and other like them fell from my lips. God had chosen not to bless me. The fact that my husband Elkanah is good, gracious, and loving to me did not take away my sense of shame. The fact that he loved me more than he loved Peninnah made my pain bearable at times, but also provoked his other wife as she paraded her sons and daughters in front of me. God who had closed my womb had clearly opened hers. Looking back, Peninnah did not flaunt the fruit of her union with my husband and her husband as much as I thought. Barrenness is though always hard edged and can lead to darkness beyond lament.

I went up to the House of the Lord regularly pouring out every fibre of my being as I pleaded for a child. The priest of the shrine, Eli, thought I looked drunk. In fairness to him, others believed me to be mad. Your great pain is driving your mad, they would say. Do not let it control you. God has blessed you in other ways. It was true I had a fine husband who treated me like a queen, but that which I longed for had not come. So, I begged, cried, and yearned for something more.

Then somehow the old priest saw through my tears and sent me home with his assurance that the God of Israel had heard my prayers. Sure, enough he did, I fell pregnant by Elkanah and gave birth to a son. How my world was complete. God had given me all I wanted and yet I in turn had promised to give him a way. Samuel would be a Nazarite. After he is weaned, he would be taken to the House of the Lord to serve. Weaning happens within our culture anytime between the ages of 3 and 4. It is the time when we are almost certain that survival is guaranteed.  My husband supported my decision, but it left Peninnah bewildered

Her question of why I would give up what was most precious was a good one. I had to. It was inevitable, a debt of honour. I watched Sammy grow strong and become a prophet of the Lord. He crowned a king. I love my boy. It was hard to give him up. I wanted him so much. As I returned home leaving with him Eli, it was almost like a sword pierced my heart. And yet, I rejoice in what he has become.

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Sang at my dad’s funeral

Posted on March 8, 2026 by 1urcher

This song/chorus was sung at my dad’s funeral in 1995

I preached. I ws not a vicar then, I was near the end of my first PhD examining a variety of things. George Ellis was a good man, who I miss even to this day.

One story about him. It was in 1992. I went home (Sheffield) with a broken heart. Must have been a woman 🙂

I could not talk about it, so ran to the local park. My dad followed. We sat in silence on the grass in the pouring rain looking at the Tinsley viaduct.

My God is the type of deity who sits with us in the rain.

Thought I would share this today.

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A woman from Samaria

Posted on March 7, 2026 by 1urcher

For someone who when he spoke and acted was the most charismatic man I have ever met, he blended in by the well. I did not notice him when I arrived. I was tired of course being there in the heat of the day, exhausted by being judged by people who did not know my story, and the intense weariness of not being able to change the narrative that people have read about me. He spoke the truth when he said that I had had five husbands, and that I was now living with someone else. Everyone in town knew.  I do not make excuses, but what if you knew that Solomon, my first, died so very young, Eliab, my second, and Joshua, my third died in battle. Reuben gave me a bill of divorce as he met someone younger, and yes, I left Simeon and I deeply regret it. But I am read as if I have had multiple marriage breakups. I understand. I read other people too. He read me, but did not judge. By the time I met him, I was already judging myself.

He even let me play games as I tried to work him out. At first it was a bit of banter. ‘How can you ask me for a drink’. I did not expect him to follow up his polite request with the comment, ‘if you knew who it was that was asking you, then you would ask me for the drink’. It was absurd. There he was a guest, a foreigner, an outsider saying that he could provide water, and yet he had nothing with which to do it.

I should have finished the conversation there. Given him the water and began the long weary journey back home. But you see it is not often that I get decent conversation, so I talked about Jacob, our common ancestor. We ended up talking about Gerazim and Jerusalem, not that I was particularly interested in either, but he took me seriously. It  was his seriousness as well as his charisma that drew me to him as well as his laughter. His laughter lines made him look and feel open and honest, and his eyes when they held mine were curious, open, and expectant. Our conversation was in many ways like playing games of strategy like in the stone games in our marketplaces. He was rare as a man to engage with a woman in such a way, and even rarer to interact with a grey headed one like me. He smiled as he said, go and call your husband. He knew, and I knew that he knew. He did not stop our conversation because of it. I did. I had to tell others about the man I had met at the well. Could he be the Teacher? I knew he was. I just wanted the world to know about the man who did not judge me and treated me like an equal. To be treated like that by the One changed everything. I stopped judging myself that day. After all, he did not offer judgement, so I did not, and I learned to smile once again.

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What’s your favourite book?

Posted on March 5, 2026 by 1urcher

Children across Wales are celebrating World Book Day. As a Christian minister, I wonder what is your favourite book in the Bible.

My shortlist is

Ecclesiastes

John

Acts

Revelation

I am going to say that my favourite book is the Acts of the Apostles.

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The title of my autobiography would be….

Posted on March 4, 2026 by 1urcher

The title of my autobiography would be: It has all been a glorious accident.

This would include

My time with the London City Mission (two weeks became two years)

Going to university and then doing a PhD

Leaving evangelism for the academe

Leaving the academe for ministry

Moving to Wales

or perhaps the title should be: I should have believed a little more…

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Sharing my Welsh

Posted on March 4, 2026 by 1urcher

Welsh apparently is still in a vulnerable position. The reality is of course it has persevered and survived when surrounded by the language of Empire (English). The story of its survival is one that should be celebrated.

Enabling every child of primary school age to be educated in Welsh, as has happened in Catalonia, would be a good place to begin. The case for bilingual education is overwhelming, and indeed in my experience of going into Welsh primary schools, children are sponges and can gain a command of the language with relative ease.

Another good step would be the active encouragement of each person moving to Wales to learn some Welsh. Cost of classes are reasonable. I have paid £90 for 30 weeks (that is £3 per week) and at 3 hours per week… it is a £1 an hour. There is no excuse really. Or is there?

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what three things?

Posted on March 3, 2026 by 1urcher
Daily writing prompt
What are three objects you couldn’t live without?
View all responses

I have been asked the question, what three things could I not live without.

My answer would be coffee, my dogs, and my bible

I wonder what your answer would be?

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A Bumbling Presence

Posted on February 28, 2026 by 1urcher

If I ever write an autobiography it will be called a bumbling presence

I believe much of my life is taken up my bumbling. I live and minister in Conwy. I am here by happenstance. Certainly I ended up in Wales by bumbling through study at St Deiniol’s Library in Hawarden.

I have never been one for a grand plan. I never intended to stay in London for two and a half years when I went for three weeks. I just cannot count. I never set out to have a PhD, let alone two. I don’t think I intended to be ordained.

Bumbling means just being there, sometimes with intent and often with no particular aim. I can sit in a coffee shop for hours, or in my chair with a book. It is not that I don’t know what I am doing, simply I do it in my own way. I certainly have no expectations of myself.

I bumble. I am the bumbling fool. Discuss

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Being Towed

Posted on February 28, 2026 by 1urcher

The clutch appears to have gone of my dog mobile. I was delighted that some friends offered to tow me to the garage, navigating the church yard gates and the town walls on the way.

I would prefer to drive than be towed. The problem it seems was that I like to be in control. I was steering of course, but nothing else. I had to trust completely the driver of the car towing my van.

It was a salutory experience. Someone had to get into the passenger seat alongside me to keep my feet from touching the brake pedal. I guess I just have a desire to be in charge. Maybe during Lent, it does me good not to be in charge, but to rely entirely on the person leading the way.

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The Temptation: A Jackal’s Story

Posted on February 21, 2026 by 1urcher

Caspar is my name. it is not often that our cave is shared with humans. i am a golden jackal and live in the desert planes. It is not the most hospitable place. I survive my eating berries and carrion, and there is a little brook in the ravine, which only rarely runs out.

I am watchful and wary and immediately hid in the shadows when he arrived. He seemed purposeful and quiet; well, I suppose he had to be; there was no one there for him to talk to. That is not quite true, as he seemed to recite words from the sacred texts; and he also seemed to spend lots of time listening. I am not sure he knew I was there, although I can be noisy, especially if I am sleeping.

He could do what most of his kind could, make warmth each night, which meant that I, crept a little closer, although we still hid in the shadows, undetected or so I thought. He went for a walk early in the morning, stretching himself and talking I imagined to the creator of the universe. This can be a still place. Sometimes I followed him, watching, I was always careful to keep out of sight. You can never fully trust a human. It was strange as I never saw him eat, although he would go down to the ravine and drink. With a tool he had fashioned with his hands, he moved some of the rocks making some of the water flow nearer to what I was beginning to call our home. The man was still my guest. Sometimes berries were left just in the shadows of the cave. I wolfed them down. It was only later it occurred to me that my guest had left them for me.

The moon had gone a full cycle, and he was still there. He kept the same habit of walking in the morning, resting in the afternoon, going out in the evening and lighting a fire. Every day there seemed to be some food left in the shadows. He still seemed purposeful, perhaps even driven. Sometimes there seemed to be an extra something about him, as if he was resisting something. He must have been getting weaker. My stomach yells if I don’t get to eat every other day. But he seemed to grow stronger. I might have thought about that longer if I had not begun to enjoy the company. About half way though the second cycle of the moon, he changed a little. He seemed to be more certain, as if he had come asking questions and had found some answers.

On what turned out to be his last time at home, he lit a fire, and for no reason at all, I went and lay near it. ‘There you are’, he said, and he ruffled my fur. I did nothing. I was not going to let on that it was kind of nice. The following morning, he got up, and after finding some berries which he left at the entrance of the cave; he left. I followed for a little while, until he met up with others of his own kind. ‘Jesus, we have been looking for you everywhere’. His reply was simple, ‘I had to be about my father’s business’. I trotted back to my cave. I often wondered about the man who made me come out of the shadows, and sometimes longed to sit with him by the warmth of the fire.

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