On waiting to be touched by grace. A friend invited me to church on Sunday, at the end of which everyone bowed their heads and prayed, and a pastor proclaimed we were blessed. Today I was asked if I felt any sort of emotional tug then, and I had to say no. I didn't bow my head to pray, but took a quick look round the sea of bowed heads before I sat still and waited. I felt a bit sad and detached, cos it felt like everyone's tuned into a frequency I couldn't hear. Maybe later someone will relay to me second-hand what I've missed, but you know that's not how it's supposed to go. So I asked in return if my friend prayed for me, and the reply was an apologetic no. Well actually that made me glad, cos I thought I would feel more disappointed if I was prayed for and didn't feel it there and then like a pinprick in my heart.

If I've received a calling from God, I hope to feel more. Like how reading chain emails from my noisy girlfriends puts an indulgent smile on my face. Or how listening to a song I love can make me run that bit longer. Or what makes me stop reading a book halfway to bury my nose in its pages and breathe in deep. Or why I keep travelling again and again to all these places I've never been to before. Or how certain movies make me cry.

I guess it's not time yet.