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Why don’t you pick up a pen and start writing, the friendly from voice from down the telephone line announced? My friend John gave me the best piece of advice he could several years ago now. I had never been particularly good at writing at school as I’m sure my teacher/s who attend the 10 o’clock will tell, I never had a great interest in reading either, and for the son of the local book shop manager, that was hard to believe, somehow there was an assumption that my bedroom would be stacked out with all sorts of books, when in fact the only annual interest in reading was the “Blue Peter Annual” every Christmas, the safest Christmas present my Grandmother could give me.

My writing started when I had more time on my hands, after I had been signed off from work, some how it seemed the ‘write’ thing to do, but in my case it was sitting in front of a key board, as my writing was completely impossible to read, and according to family members has not changed much since then!

My problems, in relation to my writing and speech, stemmed from a lacking of; concentration, knowing what I want to say, but the wrong words appearing on the keyboard or even ‘popping’ out of my mouth, and perhaps the most embarrassing of all, having to ask my three children how to spell, what they tell me are the simplest of words. So, as you can see, to ‘produce’ three hundred odd words, takes me a long time, or is it just me ‘waffling’ on?

But, I want to encourage everyone, even YOU, to pick up your fingers and start to attack that keyboard, and write, whether it’s an article for this fantastic The Voice journal or perhaps, like me, sending a monthly e-letter to your friends. It is the most cathartic method I have found to ‘download’ your worries and problems, but obviously not to bore the reader with them. But, what’s to stop, us as parishioners, to write a book about life in Bilton, about the church, the history of the village, Poems, Jokes from the Children, Recipes from The Mother Union or Women’s Institute, and then sell the book in aid of the New Community Centre??

My “Paul’s letters from the Patio Door” started like for former; friends would email me asking how my appointments at the hospital were going, how the children were fairing at school and how my better half was dealing with me at home. So I started the letters. Hopefully they have matured like a good old cheese or bottle of wine over the years.

So, this month I have no real story to tell, no real letter from the Patio Doors, not because there is not anything there to tell, but I thought I would like to encourage you to write an article for The Voice, join me in the great “Waffle”

I have decided to change the name of the articles which I write for The Voice, but why, well change is as good as a rest, or so they say. I am not a great believer in change just for the sake of change, but there are times when it’s Good.

As I write this article, we are about to celebrate tomorrow, the third of three “Mega-festivals”; the birth of the Church, the day that the Holy Sprit descended upon the Disciples and the rest of the people gathered in that room, to celebrate the Jewish harvest festival, which was celebrated on the 50th day after Easter, they were so empowered by their new gift, that they went out onto the streets of Jerusalem and started to preach the gospel of the risen Christ, moreover God gave them the gift of speaking in tongues, so that they could preach in the same language of the peoples gathered there to celebrate.

So, we are all given gifts of one thing or another, whether we know it or not, I believe that God given gifts are the most precious of all, we can all give gifts and that is the most rewarding feeling ever. Before I started to write this article I started to write a list of all the gifts I had been given not you understand gifts at Christmas time, but tangible, God given ones, try it, you will be very surprised. My first one was the gift of being able to write these articles, something a few years ago, I would not even try to do.

Now we reach the point in the article where I can link my thoughts to that of being “in charge” of the wheel, as it turns at a great rate of speed, or should that be that God looks after, he guides my hands, the clay, the electricity to power the wheel and my sight to watch over the emerging pot.

God has given me, through my teacher, Mrs. Saunders, the ability to turn lumps of clay into a pot, chalice, plate or wall mounted planter. (I am sorry if this sounds like an advert, it’s not meant to be, or though having said that, the workshop which I go to will be selling items of Garden furniture etc., in the Church car park at the Open Garden event on the 12th-13th July, and they will donate a proportion of money raised to the New Build project.)

I believe that the Lord has given me my gift of molding lumps of clay. Recently Linda Blay asked if I would make for her a Chalice and Patten, for use in her new Parish, I was truly ‘chuffed’ at the feeling that some-one wanted to share in my gifts. Through my inabilities to perform certain daily tasks I have found that I still have gifts, given to me by God.

Thank you