History is Hurting my Head

This is my last day in London. While I am looking forward to the next leg in our adventure, this makes me really sad. I came to quickly love this place even more than I expected. Part of it is the energy and power of the city, but I really fell in love when I looked under the table and found my own little nooks and crannies that spoke to me. St. Andrews By the Wardrobe is my personal piece of London. This morning I woke up early so that I could catch a bus and make it to morning prayer service at the church. What a perfect way to begin my last day in London. The rector, Guy, was so very sweet. I could tell that part of him hoped that this would be a typical morning and nobody would make an appearance for morning prayer, but I did show up and he accommodated me and blessed me for his efforts. Because I am not of the Church of England he instructed me on how the service went and my part to play and then he chose to do the longer service, the one from the time back when this parish first began, the service that my ancestors would have known. It is beautiful, absolutely what I needed to hear this morning. And the scripture passages that he chose, from both the old and the new testaments were tailor made for my needs and my heart. It is an interesting experience to do the morning prayer service between the rector and just a single patron. It is very intimate and powerful and I was in tears by the time we were done. He had things to do and places to go but he gave me a quick tour and then graciously left me with the church open to explore on my own. I simply fell in love with the place. I am ever, EVER so glad that I chose (or was led) to go back there this morning. I needed to be inside. I especially needed that morning service in the small, intimate chapel of St. Anne. Thank you Guy and blessings be on your head for going the extra mile with me today.

I met up with Karen and Erin at the Tower of London after I finished up at the church. WOW! My friend Karena had lent me a book that gave me a history of the tower so I came in with some knowledge, but I was still blown away by this place. I am now so full of history that I am in serious trouble. There are so many things that I need to know more about. The one part of the Tower trip that did not hurt my head was the wonderful Beefeaters. I have already come to love the British people, but those men are a special breed. I think that they are especially important to do a delicate job. To give tours and answer questions in a very heavy place, dealing with intensely tragic history. And they handle it with a wonderful balance. I was impressed. The Tower is a heavy place. I have some sensitivity towards such things and this place was wearing my down by the time we left. And yes, as we were leaving, I do swear that I saw a ghost in one of the high windows. A figure with a lit candle that was there one moment and then gone.

One would think that we would have had enough history by this time...but one would be wrong...we headed over to the British Library to finish our London stay looking at their rare book/document collection. I was not able to take photos there, but I will never forget what I saw on this day. I saw letters written and signed by Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and Churchill. I saw a Tyndale Bible. I saw THE MAGNA CARTA. I SAW THE FIRST FOLIO. There were moments when I seriously could not breathe.

There is no way that I can express all of the feelings and thoughts that are in my heart and my head from this past week. Life-changing is one term I suppose I could use but even that does not quite speak it clearly. Anyone have a thought for a word that might fit...