Too much guilt?

Whilst taking a breather after mowing the lawn, the random shuffle on my MP3 player brought up a song by Paul Field, Time and time again, which I think was intended to be used as a prayer of confession. It certainly summed up my mood of the moment - a realisation that "time and time again I'm a stranger to your love; time and time again I'm just not strong enough." One of the reasons we keep having to confess our sins is that we keep falling short of God's hopes for us and our hopes for ourselves.

Then the thought struck me: Should I therefore be resigned to a perpetual sense of failure and guilt? I know the gospel is all about forgiveness. I know that Jesus welcomes us in our brokenness. I know that we are set free from sin and guilt. I know that we are not perfect and keep making the same mistakes over and over. I know we should be relying on God's strength rather than our own. I know humility is a virtue. But.

But is constantly falling over and being picked up again the best I can look forward to? Is that what Jesus meant when he said he had come so we could have life to the full? The whole point of being forgiven is that I can go through life with head held high and heart brimming with joy. Issues of sin and guilt are bound to appear from time to time, but they ought to be dealt with quickly and thoroughly. They should not be my constant companions.

So what if my old familiar faults have caught me out yet again. They are forgiven. They have no hold on me. Life is good. God is great. I should be celebrating the fruits of the Spirit, not bemoaning the occasional persistent weed.

Ordination celebrations

Last Sunday I had the privilege of laying a hand (along with the president of the Methodist conference and a bishop from Cuba) on the head of a friend and colleague as she was ordained into the Methodist ministry. The day had several memorable moments - rainbow flags leading the procession into conference; hymns introduced by a precentor and sung unaccompanied; the wonderfully worded motion to receive the ordinands, which included the number reference of the motion and the page number of the conference agenda (only Methodists could incorporate such precise details into such a solemn moment!); the coachload of visitors from my previous church who were co-incidentally there to see their current minister ordained; the applause for the newly ordained ministers which went on and on, and some of their faces as they struggled not to cry; meetings with old friends, including a fellow minister whom I have not seen since we were undergraduate students together in Durham - to name but a few.

Last night our circuit had its own celebration, including an uplifting testimony from the new minister and a simple but moving address from the guest preacher. Both these occasions have reminded me of my own call to ministry - and to some extent shamed me into the realisation of how lightly I treat my call. I enjoy life, yes. I am friendly to those I meet, yes. I get the essentials of ministry done (even if at the last minute), yes. But where is the passion to transform lives? Where is the urge to give and not count the cost? Where is the conviction that day by day I am helping to establish the kingdom of God?

One reason for returning to this blog after a time of absence is that I need the motivation to get a grip on my life. I've been cruising along nicely for a few weeks. I've had an extended break with S (visiting friends before, and family after the day of ordination). I've had a relatively busy time with meetings and such like to organise. I've done little pastoral work. I've let the backlog of jobs accumulate to the extent that it is horribly out of hand. I've postponed the really important issues. I've not spent much time with God.

This coming week in general, and today in particular, is a gift from God. I have no evening meetings. The only urgent things I am aware of are next week's services and putting together the first preaching plan of our new circuit. Therefore I will have time to tackle that vital category of 'important but not urgent'. But today I have one simple ambition - to seize control of my workload. If I can reach teatime with a clear desk, two empty intrays (physical and email) and a realistic list of future actions, then I shall be a deliriously happy bunny.

• Outcome: YES. My list of jobs to do is as long as ever, but at least I have a clear and well-ordered space (if you don't look at the piles of stuff on the study floor) in which to work.