The Confirmation, the family and the shoes!

   It was exactly a year ago tonight that I confirmed my faith in front of friends, family, my Church family and a Bishop. It was the end to a long journey which had consisted of a multitude of Wednesday night’s spent really thinking about faith and religion and one particularly difficult treasure hunt one Saturday morning.  

   Thankfully I hadn’t travelled alone. Three of us took the journey and were Confirmed. At the start we barely knew each other, the three of us hadn’t been back to Church long and hadn’t really been acquainted. I was extremely nervous to think that I was going to have to share some personal thoughts and opinions with people I only vaguely knew and could never have imagined that by the end of the course, we would share an amazing bond. I love every member of my Church, however getting to know them and being Confirmed with them had brought us closer than we were to most other people in the family. This is a feeling which I hope, and am quite confident that the two women Confirmed tonight will feel too.

   All three of us still attend Church regularly and it is lovely to see them. I never realised just how close we were until tonight, one of the women I was Confirmed along side of hasn’t been to Church for a while due to personal problems and the last time I had seen her was October. As soon as she came in tonight she hugged me and told me we’d talk later and at the end of the night, just before we were about to get into separate cars and part again, she hugged me and told me she had missed me and would see me very soon.

   We are a very closely-knit Church family, who willingly welcome people in with a smile and an embrace and I think it really shows, it certainly showed tonight when a friend in front of me started to cry after the mention of bereavement. She was supported by the couple of people around her and after the service I went and sat next to her and hugged her for about five minutes straight. As much as it was just a hug, it was obvious that the support she received had helped soothe the pain, if only for a short period of time.

   I’m going to tell you about my night this time last year, and tonight.

   Both Confirmations involved a lot of picture taking, thankfully this year I wasn’t part of it! Both Confirmations also had the same Bishop, last year as he was leaving he went to kiss me on the cheek as I thought he wanted to shake my hand. If that wasn’t awkward enough, I had a piece of lovely Bakewell Tart in my mouth, so as he said goodbye I vaguely spluttered goodnight at him. I was very embarrassed! This year however went much smoother, when he entered he went for the safe handshake, a much better idea in my opinion. He also had an ‘assistant’ type person this year, who prepared his clothing and crook and held his book for him. This man was lovely, as I was tidying up he struck a conversation with me about my future and the Church and life in general, and later, as I was recovering from painful feet on a chair, having a bit of Political banter with a friend, he came and joined in. What did make this awkward was that I wanted to show my friend a certain Twitter profile picture which involves George Osborne in a bed half naked, a fake body, obviously. This was the moment he decided to come and join our conversation! I quickly changed the picture to something far more suitable! Disaster averted!

   I think I’ve addressed the Confirmation and the family. Now, the shoes! I decided I wanted to stay Political tonight, wearing a red dress, a rose necklace, which looks like the Labour rose, so I decided to wear a pair of red heels that I had recently bought. I had bought two pairs, both red, one pair far more comfortable however slightly darker than my dress and one pair the exact colour of my dress but less comfortable. I of course, being the genius I am, went for the less comfortable, matching shoes. WHAT A MISTAKE. I was on Stewarding duties, so for around forty five minutes I had to give out hymn books and service sheets and direct people to seats. By the time the service started my feet were killing, which wasn’t helped by having to stand up and walk around during times in the service. Just, ouch!

   So, as I sit here now writing this blog, about to tuck in to a piece of scrumptious Bakewell Tart, nursing my ridiculously sore feet, I am enjoying reminiscing of this night, last year.