Who's this Fr Alex then ?

Hi

  It has been just over three weeks since ordination and the euphoria of that very special day and the emotion and giddiness has now passed, The ordination cards have come down and been put away for safe keeping, the adrenalin filled countdown to the big day has long gone and now here I am as a man working out what happens next?

Well what happens next literally is I am off to Holy Island from my bolt hole of St Johns College which sits in the shadow of one of Britain’s most historical Christian settings being that of the stunning Durham Cathedral. I haven’t slept well since I arrived a few days ago and the double malt whiskey’s I have been indulging in have done little to help me on my way. The company I am with is splendid, colleagues and now friends form the mix for my final academic obligation for 2014/2015 and whilst I am happy to be here, part of me would like to be at home and getting on with the day job and being with the family.

                                                                    
                                                                       Holy Island

However here I am and Durham is indeed a great place to reflect on all that has passed on all that lies ahead, the emotions can be extreme and the future a little overwhelming as I currently feel in a place of unnerving vulnerability. It’s that kind of feeling when you start a new job, keen to do good things but naive and insecure about doing matters properly in fear of making a mess. In recent weeks I have turned into a bit of a flapper a fumbler a wobbler yet desperately intent on getting through the early days impatiently striving to get to a place of familiarity and comfort.

Here at Durham, classroom periods are a mixture of interested learning time to moments of drifting off with the fairies and thinking about Baptism visits, family members, prayers, preaching, death and dying and my impending holiday abroad. After working for the same business for 15 years all of sudden doing something else is very difficult indeed. Being a ‘professional’ Christian is not that simple. I am slowly getting used to wearing the dog collar and with that I am beautifully afforded lots of smiles and good wishes as though I have become this delightfully kind and attractive person overnight. Nobody has told me to sod off yet although I suspect it is just a matter of time. And yet also with the collar comes the responsibility of being a public figure and that is something I am still working on as I often get a second glance from someone in the street or a snotty child looking up at me oddly up as I queue in the supermarket with my items from the reduced counter!

Time is something I am struggling with as well; I have gone from not having enough hours in the days to do things to having periods of great time to manage myself and my priorities and what I do next. This has resulted in a combination of visiting, listening, understanding how the rhythm of life as a Deacon should play out. Visits to the foodbank, the school, the hospice, meeting clergy has been very informative but I struggle committing to too much as I am reminded that the purpose of an newly ordained person is as much about the ‘being’ as it is about the ‘doing’. However a community center in the parish have made me so welcome and the banter between a, wet behind the ears curate and some lovely older folk who share stories and laughs as I serve them pea and ham soup or a nice pudding is something to behold.

Joining an Anglo Catholic church comes with much to learn, so much to wear and when to wear it, so many traditions that if aren’t protected by us slowly slip away in time neve r to be seen again and I really value and appreciate the importance of this in our attempts to ensure Gods church remains a Holy space where unique and beautiful worship is played out in a troubled part of Burnley for many years to come.  People are so kind and encouraging but it is something I find overwhelming in itself and the gentleness I am afforded is probably more than I deserve. It leads me to feel very blessed, My training incumbent is I suppose what a good training incumbent should be, honest, patient, instructive, and encouraging, supportive and I sense is more than experienced enough to let me do things when the time is right. That is really important to me and very reassuring.

                                                              St Matthews, Burnley

It might feel odd to read this as the last month has genuinely been one of the most wonderful periods of my entire life. The family is settled at our lovely home, ordination is done, and I have a holiday to Turkey to look forward to. Yet taking on this new role and one that comes with great responsibility and that realization has struck home with great oomph over the last few weeks, there can be no turning back, no return to retail and the autonomy to retreat to the safety haven of my office when the going gets tough has gone. No get out clauses just a stark realization that through my own submission to God I have committed myself to a life as a public figure wearing a dog collar and following Jesus.

It is evening now and Holy Island was lovely and another reminder have had the privilege to do some many wonderful things throughout my training and I have met some amazing people, many of whom are now dear friends. I have visited some stunning places and been in awe of some of the sights before me but this very evening has been one to behold. Tonight at Durham Cathedral as the last stragglers, the final tourist left this most amazing building, I and my peers from our theological college went in. We had the cathedral to ourselves, it was beautifully lit, very still, atmospherically stunning and once more I felt incredibly close to my creator as a priest led us on a pilgrimage through this Holy place. And it has left me feeling I don’t want this relationship to be exclusive. I want it to be corporate and I want others to share in the happiness of a relationship with someone that will not judge, will not criticize, will not gossip, but will love and nurture you, and be the rock to a fast crumbling and eroding world and sometimes frantic way of life. I wondered how I could encourage anybody who reads my blog yet struggles with faith so they could do so.

                                                             Durham Cathedral

                                                                 

And I came to this conclusion God is ready if you are. You may be ready but frightened, you may be curious but embarrassed you may be ridiculed if you told anyone and so on and so on. Maybe you have tried before and found nothing; you may have experienced before yet lost. Yet when I think about my own vocation it started with something so simple, something so familiar and something I never thought would lead to ordination. What was that thing do you think?

When I was about 12 years old no one in my family mentioned church or Jesus or God but for some reason I believed in this ‘thing’ called God. The only thing I knew with any certainty was The Lord’s prayer.  So on my own under the covers of my duvet I would recite the Lord’s Prayer. Every night of my life from childhood I said The Lord’s prayer. I told nobody, never mentioned it, not to my parents or my wife or my children till much later in our relationship. I didn’t expect anything; I never asked for anything, I just recited The Lord’s prayer.

Our Father

Who art in heaven

Hallowed be thy name

Thy kingdom come

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom

The power and the glory

Forever and ever

Amen

Theologians like to discuss this kind of stuff, I just like to say it and I say it at least three times a day now, but what about you? Do you say it? Do you have the courage to open the door a little to God? Try it go on when you have read this blog try it. Nothing might happen but stick with it, in due course it will!

Our Father

Who art in heaven

Hallowed be thy name

Thy kingdom come

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom

The power and the glory

Forever and ever

Amen

As I leave LCTP College and return to my Curacy, I leave The Lord’s prayer with you. One prayer and one small step.

Love and best wishes

Alextheanglican

Fr Alex

Frostie

Alex

Al

Rev

x

x

x

  

See You on the Other Side.

See You on the Other Side

Little did I know when I was being escorted out of Edge End High school hall being told I was ‘too thick’ to sit the Math’s exam that I would be writing this blog today. Little did I know that when I ran away from a work colleague in 1987 who bullied me terribly did I think I would become a blogger! Little did I know that as I watched my children being born would I be writing from a Vicarage that belongs to the Church of England! Little did I know that as I died a slow death on a stage at a comedy club in Manchester did I know I would have just completed Morning Prayer a few minutes ago! Little did I know that when I was being punched to the ground by a ‘footballer’ who didn’t like red cards did I know I would be staring at a dog collar by the side of my computer! Little did I know that some years ago as I watched a comedian at a packed Salford Lowry perform comedy I had written did I know that in a weeks’ time I will be referred to as Fr Alex, and little did I know that when I started the journey to ordination did I know I would be about to start work as the curate at St Matthews church in Burnley.

EDGE END HIGH SCHOOL NELSON

This is my last blog before the big day, an exciting week full of events and experiences, an interview with the Bishop, a rehearsal at the Cathedral and then whisked away on retreat to spend a few days in silence and prayer.  I can do the prayer, but I’m not sure about the silence, I am one of those characters that love’s solitude but not so much silence unless I am perched on the top of Pendle Hill, listening to nothing other than the robust and noisy sheep surrounding me or the occasional moo of a cow down in the valley.  I am very much a forward thinking man you know? As I listen to predominantly eighties music on my IPod walkman following wherever the lead of the dog takes us.

Blackburn Cathedral

Pendle Hill - My favorite place in Lancashire

I find myself in a bit of a bubble at the moment drifting from the past to the future and back again, thinking about all the good wishes, all the happy memories and how wonderful the future will be or not. On a recent visit to a clergy friend he summed it up quiet beautifully I thought, he said ‘Being a curate is accepting the fact that you are the person cleaning the shit from the gutters one minute, to the expectation of being the Mayor of the borough the next’. I found this most helpful although I do get a little nauseous going up ladders and I am not one to wear excessive bling on damp irregular Mondays to Fridays’.

My biggest quandary today is travel bag or suitcase for the retreat? As I have to take all my clergy gear plus ever so smart casual clothing that will do for all weather eventualities. One thing I come to consider as I prepare to ship out for a few days is that my underpants collection is so flipping middle aged! Not a brand in sight and not a pattern that is externally desirable and not a whiff of designer boxer shorts. I can tell you that whilst I appear effervescently handsome and youthful on the outside, internally I am deeply middle aged. I was gently reminded of this by my dear loving wife who inquired, ‘is there any form of lumbar support I didn’t have?’ I told her my ankle; knee, calf, shoulder, neck pillow and truss were all part of keeping the well-oiled machine functional as I rapidly approach my 46^th birthday. My daughter reinforced this today as well when she suggested the shirt I was wearing was far to young for me!

Middle Aged Underpants

And as the big occasion is just a few days away I have of course considered my attire for the ordination service, the un-trendy underpants are a given, but I have a dilemma between the Burnley FC socks I was given on Father’s day or the not very comical, comical Holy socks I got as a freebie when I ordered my clergy shirts! However big note to self is, do not wear the genuine fake Sergio Tachini white ones that I wear around the house. Generally I think I am okay as I have this week been wearing my dog collar around the house and you will be pleased to know I was also wearing the shirt to gain familiarity! It is a little uncomfortable as my slender double chin rest upon the collar but I think I will just about cope okay. Cuff links is another matter, what a kafuffle that is and it appears for this to be a long standing principal of wearing clergy shirts my wife will have to accompany me everywhere I need to dress myself!

A Clergy Collar

In truth I have that bubble in the tummy that fluffiness in the head that is either excitement or fear or a caffeine hangover I’m not sure which one is correct, but after a long, long journey to this coming weekend I can’t help but feel extremely proud of finally making it to the Cathedral on the 4^th July. After many set -backs and disappointments after many knockers and blockers after many dis-believers and mickey takers it appears I have made it to the big day. It has to be said that the encouragement, love, support, laughter and fun has been a massive antidote to the former.

I have learnt many things about myself and others during the trip, dealing with death and dying, dealing with hurt and rejection, accepting different opinions, witnessing maliciousness and intolerance, observing Christian bashing,  church in terminal decline etc. etc. Negativity however is not my game I hate it with a passion, why are some churches struggling? Look in the mirror would be my reply.

And so as I leave this final blog before ordination with you and I thank all who read any one of my many blogs, I hope that you may have been encouraged by a rather eccentric lay person to have confidence in your faith, to rejoice in the truthfulness of God, to understand life does not always need to be serious and in the words of my Father, ‘Always think Positive’. The biggest gratitude goes to my family, I love them all dearly without them this would not have happened. Thanks Be To God!

God may not be leading you to ordination, but he is leading you to something, you have a choice to be led by him or by something else, it really is that simple. My life is led by God and it is fed by God, it has been life changing it has been so wonderful to share it with you who read my blogs.

Please pray for all those being ordained this Petertide, both Deacons and Priests.

Thank-you for reading and see you on the other side of ordination,

Much love

Alextheanglican.

Pre Match Nerves

Pre Match Nerves

Hi friends,

I don’t know if you have strolled around your local cemetery recently after all they can be rather unsettling places with a, certain unease about them.

I am now in the last few weeks of un-ordained life and that is rather unsettling and although I have kept myself very busy the emotional roller coaster doesn’t appear to be abating.

This morning I found myself slow stepping around the cemetery which is just a hundred yards or so from my new home. I have found a rather picturesque route that brings me into the graveyard via a pretty little wood that at the moment accommodates a vast harvest of flowering white garlic. A Heron has made himself a very substantial nest high in the trees which makes for a fantastic watch tower for the modest river and livestock that flows through gently on its way. I have what feels like a significant incline to negotiate which in reality is probably only a slight gradient yet is more than enough for me to blow a little and indeed a little bit more. After scrambling over a few rocks and over intimidating tree roots I make it into the lower end of the cemetery grounds. In this remote corner where the deceased have long been dead I have a multitude of options and this occasion I take a right along a path that leads to some of the oldest and most dilapidated tombstones in the Borough.

I never considered it before but in my wisdom I have decided that cemeteries hold much sadness but also much beauty and over the last few weeks I have been drawn to this place to consider my future ministry.  The recent walks have been thought provoking as I think about all my Argos work friends and wonder if I am now nothing but a distant memory. The company email account is now well and truly closed and if it wasn’t for social media would our friendships be over? I certainly hope not.

And then the landscape and my minds attention focuses’ on the intimidating and enormous gravestones. This corner is very old, paths are rapidly decaying, I found a grave from 1862 the oldest one I have spotted so far, and it is apparent that not many people come down this way anymore. Many of the graves are badly damaged the stone inscriptions are so badly eroded they are unreadable and the names have a distinct feeling of long ago, there is a Walter, and a Florence at least 3 or four Alfred’s, and even a Fanny thrown in for good measure (or maybe a little humor) . Flowers aren’t in this part of the cemetery anymore; the only thing growing is the grass. Are all the loved ones deceased?

As I climb the hill I think about the ordination ceremony, I desperately want to talk to anyone who will listen to me talk about it but I fear I am boring people to death and intentionally make the effort to say nothing. I think about some of my friends who will be ordained alongside me for whom life appears much more stressful than my own right now. I’m mad, in fact disappointed at myself by offering what I thought were words of encouragement to a dear colleague which in fact had the opposite effect and actually exacerbated my friends feeling of frustration and anxiety. Others have personal worries and concerns and I just feel awful that I can’t do anything to help other than to keep my mouth shut and not put my foot in it again. The butterflies come and go and pass through like the Red Arrows over a palatial palace or airshow somewhere and before I know it I have arrived in a more lively part of the cemetery.

Fletcher my dog pulls on the leash, a sure sign something is stirring and indeed I wasn’t to be disappointed as ahead two large rabbits disperse a bit like the aforementioned Red Arrows breaking away from a formation. They run for their lives and dive into the sanctuary of some well matured bracken thicket bushes of some description fearing that Fletcher would eat them alive. Where I walk now there is more recent gravestones from the seventies and eighties and dead rotting flowers are apparent across the landscape, I am stopped in my tracks by the most splendid gravestone that wouldn’t have looked out of place at The Vatican and on further inspection I discover it was that of a young professional boxer who died at the mere age of just 24.

If my friends don’t come to my ordination will it still be special? I think to myself. Why on earth am I thinking that? I also consider. What if it rains heavily on the day will all the guests fit into the house? What if there is not enough cake and teabags? What if I get someone’s name wrong during a funeral? What if I get the time wrong for a Baptism visit? What if the vicar thinks I am utterly incompetent? What if I fail my interview with the Bishop? What if, what if, what if? When does the roller coaster ride ever finish? Does it ever finish?

As I get to the top of the hill I can look down into the valley and many hundreds if not thousands of gravestones can be seen. It is a sad picture but has a real essence of beauty about it, so many lives, so many deaths, so many stories, and so many tears over so many years. And as I look at the tombstones I read about lost children, parents, brothers and sisters. Flowers are plentiful and great attention is paid to the little piece of ground where loved ones are laid to rest. Large mounds of earth with beautiful tributes and mementoes lay on freshly dug soil and I am reminded about the fragility of our existence and limited time on this planet.

I leave the stillness of the cemetery grounds to the rumbling noise of the busy road for the short stroll down to my house. I am shaken out of my meditation and reflection of what has passed before me and what lies ahead. The mind is alive, the will is strong, the reality is difficult and the future is nerve wracking.

As I approach my front door, I l think about the words I have heard a lot over the last few days I keep hearing, John 15:16 ‘You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit--fruit that will last’.That encourages me, and troubles me, it excites me and frightens me, and I suspect I am not alone in feeling this among the ordinand community being ordained in just a few weeks’ time. Please pray for us all.

May God be with them, with me and with you, now and always.

See you,

Alextheanglican.

A FREE MAN

A FREE MAN

Well hello,

                 It has been all of eleven day since I left the world of retail and became a free man, or so I thought. Simple daily tasks like, washing, ironing, letting the guinea pigs out, cutting the lawn, finding the start button on the vacuum cleaner, and preparing meals all now feels under my remit! Not that the good lady has insisted I  have happily taken on these responsibilities as  I kind of feel obligated as I enjoy my sabbatical from working life for the next month or so.Whilst Sarah continues working and the children return to studies I like to think of myself as a gentleman between jobs whilst the family keep referring to me as unemployed and sponging off Mother!

So whilst I am ‘resting’ I have started to enjoy my new surroundings with a little less stress now that shop keeping is no longer my profession. I was so relaxed a day or two ago that I found myself announcing to my family that next year I would be entering Britain’s Got Talent performing the fine art of contemporary dance. As I demonstrated a few moves in my dressing gown and pyjamas I gracefully pranced around the lounge at our new home, the children told me sit down and be quiet I did what I was told although I thought that was what I was meant to tell them!

I have discovered a few local walks and the woods around the corner from t’vicarage would be lovely if it wasn’t for the incredible variety of dog excrement that makes the muddy corridor to natures wonderful creations high risk. I need a keen eye and the navigational skills of S.A.S proportions are required. During my early morning walks I pass through a moss infused pathway and wave good morning to a neighbour whose dog barks at me aggressively on a daily basis which causes me to consider a re-route and sympathize at the noise which disturbs the sleepy neighbourhood which is yet to awaken!

We don’t really have direct neighbours due to the location of the house so my friendly instincts have only extended, to the lady at the garage where I get my loaf and bread for two pounds. Also the occasional hello with the local undertaker who un-unnervingly stopped his funeral procession to briefly say hello the other day was thoughtful. There is a man who runs a flower van at the gate of the crematorium, Its bit like a mobile butty shop only with flowers, his rotund body contorts as he leans against his workplace waiting for visitors to hand over money for daffodils and tulips and other flowery things before entering their loved ones places of rest. He looked at me enthusiastically as a potential customer initially and now as I pass him daily on the way to the garage he looks at me with nonchalance and distain. I offer a friendly hello which on a rare occasion I get a muted response but nothing to suggest we will become great friends over the coming years!

Down on one of the lanes my naivety was soon broken when I thought the Mr Kipling silver cupcake holders were purely the laziness of the local’s failure to dispose of their 'picnic' rubbish considerately, I now of course realize its rather more sinister than this as silver foil indeed litters much of the walkway. In the dead of night presumably the walkway becomes a den of iniquity for those who like to administer themselves with narcotics slightly more dangerous and addictive than Omega 3. The stroll down to the cemetery also makes me think about death and resurrection, on one side, the view is of endless gravestones and gardens and remembrance. On the other drug fuelled paraphernalia, silver foils and a large squashed bird of some description that has been so compressed into the tarmac it has no distinguishable features other than it used to fly. Did that flight of fancy make to heaven or not I wonder?

I am using my free time wisely I have watched Jeremy Kyle help the helpless assuming it is only a matter of time before he also raises the dead. I watched in awe and wonder as a man on ITV cooked some Asparagus in butter, I have ironed my socks in preparation for the big day, and I have been reading the autobiography of Bear Grylls, a man similar to myself, physically perfect, highly mobile, king of adventure and a devout Christian! I forgot how nice it is to read books of a non-theological nature. As I lied in the bath contentedly reading Bear the water had cooled enough that my blood red skin had returned to a safe enough temperature that my life was no longer at risk, I haven’t done that for ages.

I even watched a film with my daughter, it was a tense, intellectual thriller entitled Pudsey the dog, sadly I lost the will to live after sixty minutes and after falling in and out of a comatose state even my daughter agreed it was a little tedious.

The next week is very busy, I have to go to the library, I need a ‘new’ part worn tire for my driver’s side, and I need to post a letter! Seriously I am rather busy, a trip to Salford, a trip to Ambleside, then to Anglesey and then to Mirfield all in the next seven days are things I am looking forward to, I told you I was like Bear Grylls!

Beyond that is the big day, Ordination on the 4^th July, but for now I am trying to put that to the back of mind and focus on the here and now. I unpacked the clergy shirts and gave them the once over with the Morphy Richards hotplate and as I ironed I thought, Me a Clergyman, you having a laugh? I seem to have more white clergy collars than St Paul’s Cathedral, if you need one let me know!!

Work is still in the mind as I weirdly expect to be called into an Argos meeting or something to pick up where I left off but deep down I know that is not going to happen. Do I miss the world of retail? Not yet! It is nice waking up in a morning not needing to rush, to take time with prayers and to enjoy a bit of ‘me' time. I am feeling very content at the moment and truly blessed reflecting with pride and affection on what has passed before me. I can’t wait to begin work as Fr Alex, and as the diary starts filling with tasks of a church nature so does the realization that ordained life is just around the corner. 

In Bears’ book he writes a lot about achievement, he has a really great story to tell and I highly recommend his book, but whilst we really are nothing alike I found a shared faith and a moment he reflected upon rather inspiring. Grylls broke his back in a failed parachute landing not long after successfully passing out as an SAS soldier and he subsequently left the elite forces due to his injuries.   Despite this his determination to make the most of his life was driven by an incredible self-will to achieve his goalsand whilst I haven’t climbed Everest or parachuted out of a helicopter, I haven’t wrestled with dangerous creatures or jumped of cliff tops, I have pushed myself physically and mentally to get this far. Both myself and the man of mud, sweat and tears have a common denominator and that is faith. He writes, ‘My Christian faith says that I have nothing to fear or worry about. All is well’. At this moment in time I couldn’t disagree with him in the slightest!

Till next time,

Peace brothers and sisters

Alextheanglican!

AGONY BEFORE THE ECSTASY

Hello from Rydal Hall,

I write this blog on Sunday morning near the end of our penultimate study weekend before the end of this year’s studies. I have not been blessed with the picturesque view this time that overlooks the Rydal Hall gardens and rolling countryside. On this occasion I have one of the less salubrious rooms which has   a much less romantic window view, the car park !

It has been a rather somber weekend to be honest, I rather felt for our guest speaker as between the studies the tea breaks the conversations were very much about the future of our training institution. The sad news that the college is to be wound up in the next 12 months is disappointing and unsettling for the students who still have further studies to complete over the next few years. Far from feeling ‘I’m alright Jack’ I feel the sense of frustration and disappointment as students and tutors contemplate the future.

Alongside all of this I have yet to experience the ecstasy of what lies ahead as my day of ordination draws closer. I have yet to feel happy that I leave work in just six days to supposedly enjoy a long vacation before the big day. It is fair to say that the mind games, the fears and anxieties are probably at maximum right now and is compounded by the massive changes in my life. Moving house, leaving work, being ordained, not being able to be at home for important birthdays all appear to be taking their toll. The impending anniversary of my Fathers’ death looms which evokes sad thoughts mixed in with joyful memories, the cogs in the brain are working at overtime I can tell you!

One of the joys or not having to deal with ‘stress’ is it affords me with waking up very early and I have beaten the alarm pretty much on a daily basis for the last few months, and as I wonder around my new home waiting for the kettle to boil I wrestle with the conversations in my head, Am I doing the right thing? Is everything going to work out okay? Will I make it to the 4^th of July (Ordination day) in one piece? The kettle clicks and breaks the thought process and I usually immerse myself in internet newspapers and endless links to football reports to take me to another place before I wake the Frost household.

I recall starting training three years ago, the long journeys, the sleep overs away from home, the reading was all so exciting but now as I sit in my room before our morning prayer cell, you find a man feeling rather weary and looking forward to taking a well deserved break.

And yet in the doom and gloom of this blog, I remain utterly devoted to my vocation. I believe and pray it will be worthwhile. To get to something better sometimes we have to suffer and there is no greater demonstration than that of our Lord Jesus. This journey to ordination is incredibly unique, it is not something for the faint hearted, but out of difficulty out of turmoil can, and will come peace.

I am spending a lot of time in prayer right now, for myself, for my family, for my colleagues and for my ordinand peers. It is not an easy time, it is a challenge, a change, a fear, but it is also rewarding, exhilarating, honest and manageable (just) and to get to ordination by hook or by crook will be a relief and wonderful achievement. The prospect of getting on with being a curate and father is a goal worth striving for, reassured that God has everything under control even if it sometimes feels to be not the case.

I have an emotional week ahead of me, I leave the place that has provided for my family for 15 years, I leave some wonderful people behind, I will miss them dreadfully and it will feel strange waking up this time next week no longer a store manager but a man between jobs. I lose the control and responsibility for sales, costs, health and safety, development, people, customers, and I prepare to take on the responsibility of being an agent for God.

If you are so inclined please pray for my family, for my children and my best friend and rock, Sarah.

May God go with you this day and always

Much love

Alextheanglican. 

Moving On (part two) Goodbye shoppers.....

Hello friends of faith and non,

Thirty one years ago I left school at the age of just fifteen, I left with the lowest grades possible and on some occasions lower than that. My Mum was beside herself with worry at what I would do next, and after a 16 hour YTS placement as a trainee cricket grounds man fell through her stress levels accelerated dramatically. Then an opportunity to be a trainee golf pro with green keeping duties was turned down by my good self, the future was looking bleaker than a salesman flogging inflatable crocodiles on Southport beach. Well it was if you were my mother, for me it seemed a lot less concerning and one morning, I informed my parents I was going out to get a job.

Unlike now when I was a youth towns had lots of shops and I stumbled across a little electrical emporium affectionately known as Curry’s, I entered the shop hopefully and left the shop ecstatically. For kids of a less academic persuasion the preferred route for folk like me were YTS schemes.  Twenty six pounds was the going rate, and I had just walked out of a store with double the salary and guaranteed full time employment. My job title was to be Van Assistant which was a nice way of saying general dogs body and lifter of heavy things.

I worked for the Electrical magnate for a couple of years were I squandered most of my wages on vinyl records and ZX Spectrum software. I was a young man living the dream.

A bit more money led me to a small independent company based in Padiham, and as previous blogs cover a tale or two from that experience I shall swiftly move on and I shall also bypass a short experience as a confectionary rep working for a wholesaler that was significantly more expensive than its competitors. It resulted in poor performances by myself and the company and a rapid return to the retail sector!

I worked for a long standing family firm Harry Garlick TV Centre twice and it was only the enticement of selling sweets and crisps to unenthusiastic shop keepers that prevented it be a once in a lifetime experience. Harry Garlicks was unique to say the least and it was here that I ventured into the world of Retail Management; I was appointed Assistant Manager where the irony was that only two people worked there. I was the trusty right hand man until a fall out with the Manager resulted in a number of years floating between Nelson and Burnley and Burnley and Nelson.  The work was sedate, the company was male and the salary was poor enough to be lambasted by my late father in law for earning shit money! On the plus side the owners were genuine and humble, the job was secure and the laughs were unending.

The birth of the lad Joe, was a big thing in my life, I promised my partner (now wife) Sarah a house with a garden and not long after the boy arrived I was offered the role of electrical supervisor for a company called CBS a clearance division of the catalogue giant GUS (Great Universal Stores).

I spent a couple of years selling all the 'shite', customers had returned or didn’t want and some of the clientele  and sales were extraordinary. I watched and observed how not to manage people and problems as sickness levels rose and staff turnover increased until a wonderful Area Manager ironically a Mr Bishop recognized my potential and shipped me out to Chorley where I was placed under the leadership of a now very close friend called Kath, she was the first business leader that I believed in, she had the full skill package and knew how to get the best out of the customers and those that served them. She looked after me, she allowed me to make mistakes and she ensured I didn’t repeat them, she taught me the value of respecting colleagues and customers and she remains a huge inspiration in my life, we laughed together and cried together. The wisdom she imparted on me as she lit up another ciggie at the backdoor was vital and we have a enduring friendship that is special to both of us.

Through her leadership I became a leader myself, I helped open a big store in Castleford and was offered a wonderful opportunity with a big pay increase to go and work in Manchester. Long hours and a difficult environment was the opportunity on offer and after much pressure and persuasion I turned down the opportunity believing something else might come up. It did! It was to be at the dreary, unloved, low potential shopping precinct in Walkden near Bolton. I became the Store Manager. It was to be my first opportunity to be a store Manager and I took it with both hands, the store did really well under my stewardship and I started recognizing my ability to do even more than this. A rare treat was watching people meet Irish family favorite Jimmy Cricket, I had the opportunity to do the same but politely declined !

Fifteen years ago I joined Argos as the Deputy Manager at the store in Accrington, Unbeknown to myself I had joined a store that was in virtual terminal decline, moral was on the floor, bitching was common place and not many folk wanted to talk to me, let alone embrace me. It was horrible and I hated it, I really hated it and a Senior Manager from CBS caught wind of this and tried to entice me back to Great Universal Stores. The highlight of this experience was meeting a friend called Mark, He taught me so much about tolerance and single sex relationships,I'm not sure he is aware but he remains a pivotal part of my journey!

Back at the coal face I was ready for dumping Argos, brief case packed and already to go; in fact I resigned my position until one morning a Senior Argos Manager rolled up and persuaded me to stay by waving the wallet and asking me to run the Store on a short term basis. This was an incredible opportunity and one I was not going to let go. Even now it became one of the most rewarding and successful periods of my management career, I humbly report me and Mark and our team turned the store around and results and moral went through the roof to unprecedented levels, As a result of this I was permanently  appointed and encouraged to consider another unknown opportunity when the area boundaries changed shortly after.  I followed my line manager to the Greater Manchester area, in hindsight I shouldn't have he was a bit div! I briefly ran a store in Rochdale before accepting the Deputy Manager position at the Argos flag ship store in Manchester Ancoats, Argos didn't get bigger than this. This superstore took serious money, we had hundreds of staff, thousands of customers and I was way out of my depth! I learnt a harsh lesson at this point, money was a carrot but the huge increase in salary came at a huge loss, being that of happiness and job satisfaction.

Not long after I met another individual who was to have a massive impact on my life and career. An Area Manager named Paul was to be my salvation, we didn’t know each other but he recalled something outrageous I did at an Regional gathering at Blackpool Pleasure Beach and fortunately for me that moment of silliness was enough to persuade him to offer me a return to Store Management in the beautifully sounding Huddersfield Pack Horse Centre. It was to be a fantastic move where I rediscovered my mojo and started enjoying working life once more. The hour long commute was so useful as my sanity was restored under his inspiring leadership. Our personalities contrasted significantly which I believe was the recipe for success, never before had I had the trust and autonomy to lead a team of my own and I like to think I repaid his trust.

Within six months Paul gave me the keys to a wonderful opportunity which was to open a brand new state of the art store over in enemy territory Blackburn, which was to be my retail home for the next 9 years of my life. Daily routine was frequently interrupted by proudly being involved in the opening of new stores and conducting numerous disciplinary hearings and leading the area in Financial Services. At Blackburn Townsmoor the memories are far reaching, laughing with DK, going on the telly with Janine, Spotting a Mona Lisa in the toilet, and laughing, and laughing and laughing all the way with me dear mates, Whitto, Skelton, Mcca and Winfield !

Another area boundary shake up occurred and saying goodbye to a friend and boss Paul, was incredibly moving as this highly respected gaffer got the most wonderful send off you could possibly imagine. Vicky my new boss came onto the scene and remains my line manager to this day, we have had our ups and downs but I feel pretty certain a mutual respect between us both means a friendship will continue long after my final days as a shopkeeper. We have shared moments of hilarity and hysteria and we have had the difficult conversations regarding store performance and personalities. Blackburn Townsmoor is a beast of a store, it is not for the faint hearted and the management challenges it presents means nerves of steel and an iron will are required to get the best out of this retail juggernaut.

As Vicar Training approached I realized I couldn’t give the business what was required to run this monster and asked for a move, and what a move! To my beloved home town of Burnley Three and a half years of joy, utter joy. What personalities this store has, I'm not happy saying goodbye!

This retail blog could go on forever recalling some of the personalities that I have met and worked with over the years and if you are reading this and wondering if Alex remembers, this experience or that moment of hilarity, or the time we fell out, or the hard decisions that were taken then I probably do.

I have met hundreds of colleagues over the years; I have had the pleasure of working for a strong business Argos, they did indeed provide us that house with a garden. The people I have seen start as kids in their first ever jobs who have gone on to have successful careers is just brilliant. The promotion or recognition of friends I have worked with is just fantastic and The friends I have made are something I will treasure forever.

In all honesty I don’t think I was ever the finished package, I was never quite prepared to give my life and soul to the business and probably spent far too time entertaining the troops and making light of serious business matters. My philosophy was usually, why can’t we laugh all the time? I of course know that we can’t laugh all of the time, but that’s just me I suppose as I  happily prepare to give my life and soul in serving God.

What I do want to conclude with though is my massive thanks to all who have stuck with this blog thus far, it probably suggests we have a mutual respect and friendship and for that I am most grateful. Retail friends, you have been part of an utterly incredible journey and I never thought my pathway would change so dramatically and never envisaged leaving the retail world at the age of 45.

Thanks so much for being part of it, I have four weeks left in this working environment before taking a sabbatical before embarking on the next leg of life. I was presented with some wonderful gifts at my last Managers meeting that I will treasure forever. I hope the memories you may have of me as a shopkeeper in the main will be happy and positive. If I happened to have  been the one who dismissed you or encouraged you to leave the business, forgive me, it was just business!

I shall hold you all in my prayers

With much love

Alex (the Anglican)  

Moving on (Part One)

Hello Friends,

I suppose Holy week is not the ideal time to move house but as the children are off school it seemed as good a time as any to pack up and clear out our belongings and head for pastures new.

I have just returned from one of my favorite walks for the last time as a resident of Lower Manor Lane Burnley and as I write this blog you catch me in a slightly reflective mood on this rather damp Palm Sunday evening in late March.

 I sometimes wonder if it was Gods purpose for me to get Fletcher my beloved rescue dog that has walked probably hundreds and hundreds of miles as my faithful companion around the beautiful countryside that surrounds our home. Our favorite walk is through the woods and over the bridge, past the farm with horses ensuring we take care when crossing the busy main road before heading out upstream along the fast flowing river before we cross the water and climb up a usually boggy hill. We then slowly meander home by the side of the dark waters of the Leeds and Liverpool Canal.  It is a stroll that has presented me with many hours of prayerful walking whilst spotting some of Lancashire’s most spectacular wildlife. Big deer and baby deer, Parenting foxes and their cubs, Owls and Kingfishers, ducks and geese and my personal favorite the incredible site of a Heron hunting for fish and then buggering off in glorious flight with its prey. It’s not all been beautiful mind, I’ve stood in dog shit, bypassed used condoms, and the despicable sight of unnecessary fly tipping has left me angry and frustrated.

However besides the negatives I would describe myself as a real enthusiast of nature and the countryside. It has afforded me important time and space to have a chat with the Lord, and work out the ups and downs of his calling upon me. I remember on one very snowy occasion being really frustrated about things and getting rather impatient with God and having it out with him. I approached a notoriously treacherous point in one of my ‘other’ walks when the most beautiful Robin landed on a snow covered gate post and stopped long enough for me to see every color and feature of this stunningly beautiful little creature, it took my breath away as it sat there watching me watching it, before it moved on to pastures new.

So here I am with my family in the first stage of moving on to pastures new not completely packed up but if the aches and pains are anything to go by we really can’t be that far away. The rooms have a bit of an echo and the half filled boxes make ‘home’ look messy and unsightly and when they say moving house is stressful I certainly wouldn’t argue against such a proposal. God has called us to be somewhere else although not far away, just t’other side of town to be precise. It will be a new experience for us, living on a busy main road but in a large Victorian house that I trust in God enough to be positive it will be a wonderful and enriching experience for me and my crew.

It is part one of a series of changes to mine and my families’ life and in just a few months part two will take place when I leave the world of retail to rest up and be free to enjoy 6 weeks of rest and resuscitation before ordination in early July. I will continue to explore Gods creation with Fletcher and the wildlife that accompanies us on our strolls around East Lancashire.

Lower Manor Lane is a home that we will hang on to for things later in life, it has been the most perfect residency for our family and we have experienced joyful births, a wedding and the tears and upset at the passing of some of our most beloved family and friends. It has given us some incredibly happy moments, special events have been and passed and therefor it is with a very heavy heart that we say goodbye to a home that we have loved dearly for the last 15 years or so of our lives.

The Vicarage that awaits us has a great deal to live up to, but whatever it puts before me I take great encouragement that it has been provided by God and it is where he wants my curacy years to be lived out. I hope in return I make him pleased, by a dedicated work hard ethic I also hope and trust it will give me an appreciation of human beings living in less picturesque surroundings than I have been accustomed to. I am desperately keen to be a loyal servant to the parish of St Matthews Burnley and in return pray that the experience will stand me in good stead when God decides it is time to move once more and to do his work once again in pastures new.

I hope this move and the next 8 weeks prepare me for the big move part two when I leave another massive part of my life being that of Store Manager of the laminated catalogue specialist Argos. I certainly hope and pray that it does. I would appreciate your prayers also.

Till next time from Lower Manor Lane

Goodbye and God bless

.Alextheanglican

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