Yesterday, in the awe-inspiring ancient beauty of Christchurch Cathedral, Oxford, my husband was ordained a deacon in the Church of England. For him, this is the culmination of a gruelling year long selection conference and a two year academic training course that had to be squeezed in around his pre-existing work and family commitments. It is the confirmation of a calling to lead the Church that he has sensed since he was eighteen, and gives him the means and the authority to do so in a greater capacity than he has been doing thus far.
For me, it is the culmination of two years of seeing less of my husband than I would like and trying to get my head around the significance of ordained ministry as someone who believes firmly in the priesthood of all believers.
For Alexa it was a chance to see her daddy in a dress for the first time.
The bump managed not to scupper proceedings by arriving early, and I am taking this as a sign that she is going to be a thoughtful, ammenable character with a good sense of propriety.