Skip to main content

All my writing is talking

I would not describe myself as a gifted public speaker.  Watching the 2017 Great British Bake Off, I empathised most with Steven, who went brick red at the slightest opportunity.  Me too, Steven, me too.  I prefer beavering away behind the scenes to bounding on to stage, and I have yet to master the art of the dramatic pause.

...

See?

Despite that, I somehow ended up delivering several talks during the autumn term.  Writing talks is a slightly different thing to crafting stories or blog posts, but it's all words.  So that's where my writing efforts have gone, these last few months.

The first was a cake decorating demonstration for a social group called Choices.  They have a different speaker at each meeting, and the lady who organises it had asked me months ago if I could explain the art of icing cakes.  I started off with a brief chat about the different types of icing and what you can do with them - which was a chance to show lots of photos of my creations - then got out a real live cake.


I'd never decorated a cake in front of an audience before, and wondered if my hands would be steady enough to pipe a straight line!  But the demonstration went well and was watched with keen interest, as far as I could tell.  My favourite comment afterwards was, "Your talk must have been good because S didn't go out for a smoke - and he always has a cigarette in the middle of the talk!"  It's an odd compliment, but I'll take it.

**************

The next opportunity was a Sunday morning slot at my "other church" about the cafe I am now managing there.  I'd been formally welcomed the previous month, but there hadn't been much of a chance to explain who I was and what I was doing there.  So I gave them a potted history of my catering career to date (starting with a chemistry degree, I explained, is not the recommended method!) and talked about a few changes that I'd made in the cafe so far.  I finished off with a short reflection on 1 Peter 4:
Practise hospitality ungrudgingly... that in everything God may be glorified.
It's pretty amazing to me that one of the things which glorifies God is simply this: practising hospitality.  But it's more than just inviting someone in for a cup of tea.  It's sharing all the gifts that the church has been given, not hanging on to them for ourselves.
There's that wonderful word "ungrudgingly" in there.  Ungrudgingly is hard.  Ungrudgingly means not getting upset when people make a mess of our clean building.  Or complain about something.  Or even come in just when we thought we could finally sit down for lunch ourselves!
 That's why we need God's love, to cover sins, and God's words in our mouths and God's strength which he supplies.
**************

Finally, I somehow talked myself into creating a nativity scene for the playgroup I help to run on Mondays, along with a short talk at the end of each session.  I tell you, if ever someone suggests you talk to a group of preschoolers, just don't.  Either they don't react at all to your cheerful questions and colourful pictures.  Or they have to tell you, right now and at great length, about something only vaguely relevant to what you've just said.  Meanwhile the mums are sitting there hoping you'll start Wheels on the Bus soon.


I have no idea whether anyone got anything out of my little talks about the Christmas story.  But we decorated the nativity characters every week, and they looked fantastic!  Either we have some very neat three-year-olds or the parents got more into it than the kids did.












My new career as a public speaker is seemingly not over yet: I've signed up to present a beginners' guide to blogging at the writing group I go to, in June.  That's one good incentive to actually do some blogging over the next few months, though!  And I'll keep practising my pauses.

[dramatic pause]

That's all for tonight, folks!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Models of Contextual Theology: Spiritual Formation Book 7

"A theology that neither issues forth in action nor takes account of the way one lives one's life can hardly be theology that is worth very much." Models of Contextual Theology looks like the most boring book in the world. Dry academic title, weird geometric cover design - you'd definitely only pick this up if you were required to write an essay on it, wouldn't you? Well, I wish the outside did it justice, because the contents are much more exciting than the cover. It asks some very interesting and important questions about how our faith relates to the world around us. Is culture mostly good or bad? Is there such a thing as the "naked gospel", free of context? Do you have to be a trained academic to theologize, or can anyone do it? How much does theology from one culture transfer to a different culture? Bevans describes six models of theology which offer different answers to these questions. All are valid, he says, but they all understand the gospel an

Unto us a son is given...

Did I mention something about life getting back to normal in October? Oh yes, I was just finishing work and looking forward to at least two weeks off to organise the house, stock up the freezer and buy baby stuff. Then little Toby threw a spanner in the works by turning up five weeks early! Which would put his birthday in... let's see... October. So much for normal! For those who would like the gory details, here goes. If you are a mother who had a long and protracted labour, I advise you to skip the next bit - or if you don't, please don't start sending me hate mail. You have been warned. You see, we'd been to all the childbirth classes (yes, just about managed to finish them) and learned all about the different stages of labour, and how many hours each lasted. We learned some relaxation techniques and various things Graham could do to help coach me through long periods of contractions. And then we turned out not to need any of them, because the entire thing

A birthday weekend in York

We were surprised to discover that York is only a 90 minute drive from our house. It's somewhere we'd been thinking of going for a few years, but I'd assumed it was much further away. So when we wanted to go away for the weekend to celebrate my birthday in January, York was the obvious choice. The city did not disappoint us. I'd been to York years ago, and my only clear memory was of a tower on top of a grassy mound. That was Clifford's Tower, owned by English Heritage, and recently updated with a rather snazzy series of platforms and staircases inside. We saw a 13th century toilet which had been inaccessible for 400 years (I think I was more excited about this than the boys) and got a great view of York from the rooftop viewing platform. View from the top of Clifford's Tower Most people's memories of York probably involve the Shambles - an ancient street of shops - and York Minster. Apparently there isn't a clear difference between a minster and a cathe