It’s been a weekend of “first times” for me so far, at least on the church front.

Yesterday I went to the Ochils on my first trip with the St Silas hillwalking group, and it was quite an experience.

After 7 hours, 11 miles, 2,500 feet, 3 summits, and enduring more or less every form, speed and direction of precipitation you could imagine, I am left bruised, aching, and completely physically exhausted. And the others commented at the end that it was one of their easier expeditions! They’re not nicknamed “the Deathmarchers” for nothing.

Mind you, experiencing and surviving the trip gave me maximum bragging rights in church this morning, a service which was also of note for me because I was on welcome duty. I was asked recently to join the welcome team (something I couldn’t really say no to, given what I wrote after my first and second visits to St Silas!) and this morning was my first time on duty. It was good fun thanks to the guidance of the others on duty, and it was a real privilege to begin to serve the church I have come to love being a part of.

After my blogs, I’m not sure if me being on the welcome team counts as poetic justice or irony, I can never remember the difference. Or maybe it’s just punishment…