Saying goodbye

They did not teach me about saying goodbye at theological college. There wasn’t a module on “how to hold on to your broken heart” as part of my pastoral training. And so I swing between the anticipation and excitement of new adventures and challenges, and the hollowed out grief at the prospect of moving away. In a few minutes it will be June, and then it will be just two months until all that I have known and loved (and struggled and wrestled with) for the last 6 years will be behind me, and new places and people to love (and struggle with!) in front of me.

Today I was part of the Shadwell Sunday Lunch – our second gathering of Christians and Muslims from churches and mosques in Shadwell, Stepney and Wapping to eat food together, to talk, laugh, sing, discuss together how we can love our neighbours and our local area more. It was a thing of beauty and joy. It was transformational, it was truly grassroots and local. It made me proud to be part of this group of neighbours and leaders in Tower Hamlets bringing people together who want to know each other better, who want to get beyond the stereotypes and caricaturing. It also made me realise what I will be missing out on when we are not here. Some friendships are just beginning to bud, some conversations just in the starting blocks and I will not get to see them blossom and bear fruit. I will not see the race completed. I can be thankful to have been able to be part of the story at the beginning but I am mourning the loss of seeing the final.