When I went to Bible School, it was with the express idea of getting to know God better. I imagined sitting rapt in class whilst the lecturers explained exactly what God meant in every obscure book of the Bible; then afterwards groups of us students would sit in the library poring over multiple translations and commentaries as we divided the Word over strong black coffee...

When it comes to making career choices, it's not unusual for sons to be influenced by their fathers' choice of profession. There are numerous examples of families with two, three, even four generations of doctors, soldiers, businessmen, and so on.

For some it is an expectation, fulfilling a family tradition; for others a wishful door ajar - aiming to fan the flames and capture the burning desire of an innate disposition.

I used to hate surprises, but liked being surprised. An oxymoron-gone-awry? Yup!

Surprise? You arrive home with bad hair, in boyfriend jeans, grubby tee and flip-flops, only to be serenaded by thirty runway-ready eager guests...

Being surprised? The totally unexpected, but with distinctly unembarrassing possibilities... Note my caution either way; latent control-freak dreading one, but circling the other.