People have been rather concerned about my last post. So was I, really. There's no need for any immediate worry, but it is a dire time: I'm not a depressive, I always desribe myself as a Melancholic because I've never been put out of action by sorrow as true depressives are. And Melancholy isn't always a negative thing. Nevertheless there is a long-term issue in that I am fundamentally an introvert doing a job which demands extroversion, and that will not go away: most of the time I'll be able to manage, but occasionally the contradiction will inevitably get the better of me. The current problem isn't that, it's the acute one of waiting for the faculty to be approved, and not knowing when that will be or what impact the delay will continue to have on the life of the church. Any more weddings or events to screw up? Or will the delay go on so long that our original quotations expire and we won't be able to afford increased costs? Every day at least ten people ask me 'Anything happened?' and I have to give the same answers.
Some time in the night I woke up crying having dreamt that the Chancellor rejected our faculty, not for any legal technicality which could be quickly corrected, but because he didn't approve of the whole scheme. The dark, dog hours are no time for clear thinking but I was doing some distinctly unclear thinking at that point. Having got up properly, I didn't really calm down for an hour; my usual prayer time reminded me of Christ's journey to Calvary which he undergoes this week, and how our own trials are taken up within his, and also of the fine people of Swanvale Halt church and how my job is somehow to take them through problems, not run away from them as I am tempted to do. Presiding at the Mass also settled me this morning - strange how sometimes you preach to yourself as much as anyone else.
Today's acute problem was probably caused by Tuesday being the day I call the Registry to see whether they've heard from the Chancellor. He has returned the paperwork, but they haven't had a judgement which usually arrives by email. That's a better answer than I feared, but still leaves the conclusion horribly open.