I had a meeting yesterday with Sean, Steve and Martin about Zac's. Sean is planning to take some time off next year and he wants a back-up system in place - and he wants us three to be the back-up.
I can understand Steve and Martin being on the list - they have obvious strengths - but my only obvious strength is my ability to make cakes. But then I am a Welsh mam. Whatever the problem the answer is food. Has your girlfriend finished with you? Have a cake. Don't have anywhere to sleep? Have some soup. Someone died? Have a lasagne.
I came to the conclusion that we were - or at least I was - the best of a bad job from amongst a church of damaged souls. If there were anyone else, I tell myself, then you wouldn't be on the list. Blogging friend, Furtheron, will understand; that feeling that one day, soon, everyone will realise the truth about you, that you're not really fit for the job. So I was pondering this while walking George today.
And it occurred to me that Jesus could have had his choice of anyone and he chose what must have appeared to many to be a bunch of losers. And his main hope was in Peter. Peter? I ask you. Was there ever a man who tried so hard and made such a mess of things. (I've said before that he's my hero but maybe that's where I'm going wrong, modelling myself too much on him.)
The hope of Zac's is that it will be a close representation of the early church, a model that isn't much in evidence in some mainstream churches these days. Led not by expert teachers, theologians, lawyers, counsellors, but by the imperfect and flawed. So I'm going to hang onto that, that if Peter was good enough for Jesus there's hope for me. And when that little voice in my head gets louder and tells me I'm rubbish I'm going to try and quieten it with that thought.
And I see part of my role as being the one who comes up with stupid ideas that can be adapted, moulded and shaped by the others into something doable. But unlike Peter I must try to think first and act later.