Standing on the edge

I was in Zimbabwe. The day before I had enjoyed one of the most amazing experiences ever: seeing the incredible Victoria Falls. Today was different. I looked over the edge, heart pounding. I could make out the water in the bottom of the river Zambezi, far, far below. It had seemed like such a good idea yesterday, even earlier this morning, but at the moment of jumping, fear gripped me and I froze.

I could feel the weight of the bungee around my legs, and the harness felt secure. I had seen other people jump and they had loved it. I knew it was safe and a big part of me wanted to do a bungee jump. Or at least be able to say that I had done one.

Time seemed to slow. Or possibly speed up; it was hard to say.

My mind and body lost some of their connection. My brain was desperately trying to communicate with my legs, but the messages weren’t getting through.

Finally I managed to bend my legs, ready to jump, but my legs had turned into jelly. I wasn’t going to be able to do it- I was stuck. But actually, the act of bending my legs had pushed my centre of gravity over the edge of the bridge. Gravity took over and I fell. It wasn’t dignified, didn’t look impressive and certainly didn’t result in the perfect swallow dive photo I had imagined. In fact, I can’t really say with honesty that I did a bungee jump at all. More a bungee fall.

But I did get to experience the wind, the river coming towards me at 100 miles an hour, the jerk of the bungee, and, not least, the absolute certainty that I would die. 

Whenever I tell people this story there is a little twinge of regret. Yes, I did bungee jump off a bridge over the river Zambezi, but it wasn’t quite the spectacular act of bravery I was hoping for.

Some of us who follow Jesus feel the same way when we tell the story of our conversion, or how we started following Him. It might not be a story of miraculous, divine intervention like Paul in the book of Acts on the road to Damascus. It might be a little less spectacular, a little more… mundane. It might even be a fall of gravity rather than a brave step of faith.

Those stories are just as important though and the reality is that they are the culmination of hundreds of little decisions. And, unlike my bungee fall which was definitely a ‘once and done’ event, faith in Jesus is made up of a continual series of decisions to trust and follow. Yesterday’s faith is not enough for today, I need to go again.

And for anyone looking over the edge and wondering whether to go for it and put your faith in Jesus to catch you, maybe it just needs a little bend of the knees and not that great big impossible-seeming leap. 

The sound of silence

Over the last Bank Holiday weekend, my wife Jenny and I visited a garden centre.  We saw the statue above, and I just had to buy it.  So, if you come to our house and venture into the garden, you will see it displayed in all its glory in one of our flower beds.

For me, it provokes the thought of quiet over noise.

We live in a very busy culture where things are happening all of the time.  There is constant stimulation and very little time for quiet.  I wonder what it is like in your home?

Maybe you can use this blog as an opportunity to do a sound audit of life in your house?

I’m sure you know the things that swallow up quiet – TV, mobile phones, gaming, playing music.  In moderation, there is nothing wrong with any of these things, but if it shuts out time for quiet and reflection, then maybe they need to be reviewed?  One of my favourite bands in the 80s was called After The Fire.  They had a song called “I need some time to think.”  I am sure that at some point, you can relate to this.

Our neighbours recently went on a retreat.  Not something I have ever done, but I do wonder if it might help me to reset and step off of the wheel of life for a bit.  Here are some of the upsides that Rachel shared with me and gave me permission to share with you:

• Being in nature and seeing things I may otherwise not notice, seeing God's goodness in creation.

• Time to pause and be still meant I could hear God’s voice more.

• Getting away and intentionally carving out time with God AWAY from my phone felt very healthy to get away from the noise and distraction of screens.

• Being on retreat slowed everything down.

• Having a toddler means we rarely get silence….so the precious moments when we can pause and be still and have alone time was very special.

• Silence forces us to face what is going on on the inside, to confront the lies we’ve believed and receive healing in our weakness and brokenness

I love this, thank you, Rachel it frames exactly what I was thinking when we were in the garden centre and saw the golden figure.

So, is there a point to this?  Well, we know we live in a busy, noisy world.  Sometimes we need to make a conscious effort to step back, get quiet on the inside and reset.

What do you think?  Is this something for you to consider?

Incorporating quiet into daily life can significantly enhance mental and emotional well-being, counteracting the detrimental effects of constant noise exposure.

Final verse for this blog.  Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46 v 10.

Flow

Jesus once said:

“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” (John 7:37-38)

We can go to Jesus for living water, he is the original source, but this living water will then flow from within us. What does this mean?

Joshua Luke Smith says “Flow is simply finding form for the story you are living, the perspective you see through and the unique temperament you’ve been given.”

The idea of Jesus’ living water flowing from within us, like a river, is transformational. Not only do we have a source to quench our thirst, our longings, we can also see this living water pouring out from us. To others. In our work, our creativity, to our families. In expressions of life and beauty and grace. This water flowing from us leads to life and fruitfulness.

There is also a real danger if the water is not flowing. Water that doesn’t flow stagnates. It encourages bacteria and disease; it smells and pollutes. But water that is flowing, with both an outlet and an inlet, creates and sustains life. 

We went for a walk along the river Dart in Dartmoor last Summer. It was stunning. A lush, beautiful green valley, teeming with life and growth and sparkling, crystalline water cascading, rushing and flowing along. At one point the river deepened and widened so that you could swim in this pure, clear, refreshing stream. Flowing water creates life.

We have something within us that is meant to flow out. We can express this in a myriad different ways.

When Jesus spoke about flow, He was talking about the Holy Spirit flowing as living water. How then can we flow with the Spirit? Christians can bandy these phrases around, but what might it actually feel like?

Flow is also a concept in positive psychology. Dr Laura Copley (What Is Flow in Positive Psychology?) defines it as “a state where you are so immersed in an activity that you lose track of time, self-consciousness fades, and you feel a deep sense of purpose and enjoyment. We often identify this as the “optimal experience.”  I wonder if you can think of times when that has been true for you. Maybe painting, or singing. Maybe swimming or surfing in the sea; or watching the sun go down, deep in conversation with friends. Did you recognise a spiritual side to this? Being in flow with the Holy Spirit?

While there are definite differences, I think positive psychology can help us understand something of being in flow with the Spirit.

Immersion and connection

Being in flow is about being immersed in the Holy Spirit, connected to someone much greater than us and as a result connected to creation and others.

Loss of self-consciousness

We focus less on ourselves, worrying less about our abilities or what others may be thinking. 

Presence

We are totally present in the moment. Distractions fade and our scattered attention focuses in.

That’s as far as I’ve got for now. It feels a bit like putting words to something I’ve had the privilege to experience and long for more of. I hope to get with the flow more.

David and Goliath

Not sure if you have seen it, but there is an excellent series on Netflix called “The House of David.”  If you haven’t tuned in, it is well worth a look.  This is series two.  Series one was number one in America.  Says something about people’s appetite for something more in life.  The first episode focuses on the David and Goliath story.  One of the most famous stories in the Old Testament.

There was an interesting slant being put across.  Each day, Goliath came out and taunted the children of Israel for someone to come and fight him.  It went on for days. In fact, he came out day after day for 40 days! 

Symbolically, the number 40 in the Bible frequently signifies a period of trial, testing, or preparation, as seen in events such as the Israelites wandering for 40 years, Moses spending 40 days on Mount Sinai, and Jesus fasting for 40 days. In this context, Goliath's 40 days of taunting can be seen as a period of testing the courage and faith of Israel before David's intervention.

Goliath's repeated taunts served as psychological warfare, aiming to intimidate the Israelites and undermine their morale. By appearing twice daily, he maintained constant pressure on the Israelite camp, creating a sense of fear and urgency. This prolonged challenge set the stage for David, a young shepherd, to step forward and confront Goliath, ultimately leading to his victory and the symbolic triumph of faith and courage over intimidation.

We can often use Bible stories or parables to learn how to overcome in life.  Part of what I want to say is if you are going through struggles be encouraged that you are not alone.  Sometimes we can feel isolated, and our circumstances can seem larger than our ability to deal with them.

Question – Do you have a David and Goliath in your life?  If you don’t, maybe you could think of someone you know who has.   We all go through difficult situations at some point in our lives.  Maybe you can get alongside someone to help them through their struggles?

Or perhaps your circumstances do seem to loom large every day?   They may taunt you.  It puts you under pressure, and in your own strength, you can’t see a way through.  Goliath is standing tall over you.  Well, I want to tell you that David is on his way.   He will probably look very different from what you were expecting, but take courage, he will have your back and release from your circumstances is coming.  Stand firm because your trials will diminish.  Take courage because “The battle belongs to the Lord.”

Do you need clarity in your life right now?

It’s true we are all travelling along life’s pathway on a unique journey.  Sometimes the path is straight and flat, and other times it can be steep with blind corners.  We can’t always see where we are going.  It’s why we need people around us to share the journey, to encourage us on and to tell us we can get up this steep terrain.  

Seeing clearly is an important tool in life.  I remember being out in my car on the motorway one day.  It was cold and wet.  I distinctly remember being in the middle lane.  Without warning, the whole windscreen fogged up so I couldn’t see anything.  For a moment, I was in a state of panic.   Do I try to move to the inside lane or stay where I am?  Well, I couldn’t see any vehicles to my left, but I wasn’t sure if I might smash into one if I tried to move.  So, I stayed where I was in the middle lane, and thankfully, as I tried to clear the windscreen on the inside, it started to clear.  Wow, that was a scary moment, not being able to see where I was going and feeling hemmed in.

So, on your journey of life, are you on a straight path at the moment, flat and easy to navigate, or does it feel like you are climbing up a steep hill, not knowing when the climb will end?

If it feels like the path is straight for you, can I encourage you to think of your family and friends and work colleagues, maybe someone in your street, and think if any of them are currently on an uphill climb?   Can you get alongside them to encourage them to keep going?

And if you feel like you are climbing at the moment, feeling out of breath, not sure when it will ease, let me encourage you to keep going.  Life has a habit of working itself out.  You will come through this; allow others to walk with you, to carry your bags, and to help you through this season.  The thing about seasons is they don’t stay the same.  However long winter may seem, it does eventually turn into spring and then summer, and then you will be walking on flat, straight ground again.

For some of you reading this, you may feel like you are on straight, flat ground, but you need clarity about where you are going.  Life passes us by so quickly.   When there is a fork in the road, we need to be confident that we are taking the right path.

Here are 3 scriptures that might help you:

Proverbs 3:5–6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart… and he will make your paths straight.”

Clarity comes from trusting God rather than overthinking everything on our own.

Psalm 119: 105 “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”

God’s Word helps you see clearly how to live and make good decisions.

James 1:5 “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God… and it will be given to you.”

Clarity is something you ask for in prayer.

An old song that I used to sing when I was 10 years old just came back to me.

“When the road is rough and steep, fix your eyes upon Jesus, he alone has power to keep fix your eyes upon him.”

Let’s keep journeying together.

Hands

Consider your hands. They tell quite a story and are used in myriad ways. I fear that mine show I have never done a day’s hard labour in my life.

Psalm 134 includes the instruction “Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the Lord.”

I’m going to avoid the temptation to overexplain and just share the following, I hope it is helpful.

My hands are dirty and grimy,

discoloured, scratched and broken

How can I lift them to you in worship?

These hands have done bad things

They are to be hidden away, covered up

Hands that punch, push, poke or pinch

Or scroll and scroll and scroll and scroll…

And swipe, click, type and select

Hands that take me to places I should not go

And do not do me good.  

How can I lift them to you in worship?

And yet, and yet, and yet…

You take me by the hand

Those selfsame, ashamed, dirty hands

And wash them, cleaning the muck and grime away

From under the fingernails

Washing them clean, fit for new purpose

And then, and then, and then…

You declare them holy, unblemished, pure.

And I notice your hands

That hold mine

Contain nail holes

And you wash my hands,

Not in water, but in blood.

So I lift my hands – declared holy – to You in worship.

Do you need breakthrough?

This is a blog with a difference.  It is an honest look at life with a twist of the prophetic.  Have you ever heard the expression “under pressure, something is formed?”  Over time and with extreme temperature and pressure, diamonds are formed.  Unless you are at diamond status, you are likely to be experiencing this in different ways in your life at the moment.  It might be an issue with a family member, a long-term health problem, financial pressure that you just can’t shake or maybe you are going through life suffering with your wellbeing in silence.  These are just a few examples; perhaps your situation is different.  It’s not so much what you are going through, but how you are going through it and whether you understand the process you are in.

When you look at a diamond ring in a jewellery shop, perhaps you think wow, that is expensive.  Well, they have been on an incredible journey to end up in the shop.  In nature, diamonds are created within the Earth's mantle at depths exceeding 120 kilometres (75 miles), where temperatures soar, and pressures are immense. Over billions of years, carbon atoms bond in a crystal structure that results in the hardest known natural substance. These diamonds are then brought closer to Earth’s surface through volcanic eruptions, where they can be mined from kimberlite pipes, alluvial gravels, or glacial tills.  Once out of the earth, its journey isn’t finished.  A diamond seed is surrounded with carbon and subjected to high pressures and temperatures. The carbon melts and crystallises around the seed.  So, you can see that throughout its life it is subjected to intense heat and pressure.  But the outcome is beautiful and lasting.

Pressure is part of our life experience.  If I take my own situation, I have a natural tendency to try and fix things when they become difficult.  To focus on the problem and try to do all I can to sort it out.  Subconsciously, I am jostling for control.  The harder the problem, the harder I work at trying to fix it.  I find myself in such a position at the moment.  What about you?  How do you deal with pressure?

As Christians, it is like we are in a partnership with God.  He is the senior partner, and we are the junior partner.   He wants to develop us as people and can allow situations in our lives to hone us and shape us.

I really need to change my default mechanism to try and fix things by asking God what are you trying to teach me?  Trying to take control says I don’t trust you.  I trust myself better.  But that isn’t right.  God can be trusted for all your needs and circumstances.  As you read this, think about the circumstances that you find yourself in and how they manifest pressure.

God is bigger than our circumstances.   He is faithful and can be trusted with every aspect of our lives, no matter how difficult they might seem.

The phrase "God meant it for good" is rooted in Genesis 50:20, where Joseph reflects on his hardships with his brothers and wrongly being put in prison and recognises that God used these circumstances for a greater purpose.

So, if you need breakthrough in your life, can I encourage you to go to God and ask him what he is trying to teach you?   He may not speak immediately, but He always speaks eventually.  And timing is more important than time to God.

With every blessing.

The passage of time

Time is a constant companion who walks with you throughout your life

It is like your heart that keeps on beating even when you are asleep

A friend who sits with you through life’s ups and downs without speaking

It holds your hand and offers you comfort whilst it quietly ticks on by

It punctuates so many milestones that you experience through your life

The decoration you wear around your wrist is a constant reminder

One thing is for certain, the hands of time will continue to turn

Time shares your life journey from the beginning through to the end

From your first breath until it’s time for you to pass into the next life

The artist in you commits paint to canvas to illustrate who you are

Each stroke is like “a first” in your life, your first step, your first word

You learn to walk, the day you go to school, when you start to ride a bike

find your first best friend, your first crush, your first kiss, and you find Jesus

your first pay cheque, your first drink, your first flight, having your heart broken,

You pass your driving test, start your first job, promotion, leave home, get married

Time moves on, it's time to buy your first house. Some are fortunate to have children

experience sleepless nights, go on family holidays, you realise that life is not all about you

When you are young, you don’t ever think that you will grow old, but when you are older

Your youth is traded for life experience, and you start to see things through your children

They go through all the same things you have been through, but illustrate them differently

We look back, but realise that the cogs of time will always continue to move forward

For those who are fortunate enough to find a life partner, you are no longer alone

The bed you used to sleep in doubles in size and there is another person in it!

The house you live in is furnished with things you chose and bought together

You decide how you are going to use your wages and learn about compromise

One of the gifts of marriage is the ability to share life’s ups and downs together

You support each other emotionally; you listen to each other and cheer each other up

You laugh together, cry together, and forge out a way for your children’s future

You’ve heard the song “Love Changes Everything.” Well, love changes as time goes by

The early stages are exciting, you can’t wait to be together again, they are shiny and new

There is a sense that you can take on the world.  Before kids, Saturday mornings are lazy

Without realising it, you squander free time; your universe is small, just the two of you

Some of the shine wears off as you learn that you are not perfect and have flaws

Excitement is replaced with reality that you have bad habits, which can be irritating

Children arrive, and everything changes. You are no longer the centre of your universe

Somewhere along the way, your wedding vows become much more real to you

“For better, for worse, in sickness and in health” – you experience all of these things

You are given a spade and told to start building the foundations of your marriage

Digging can be hard work as the sun shines on your back, followed by vigorous rain

It becomes apparent that long-term commitment is more important than fuzzy feelings

You learn to dig in and work through disputes and problems, even when you don’t want to

Through life’s ups and downs, you realise that love is not a feeling, it’s an act of the will

 You realise that the gift of time is one of the most precious commodities we have

For every single one of us, we can anticipate an appointment with the great unknown

We will gather up everything we have, everything we have learned and leave this world

Faith is at the centre of this transition. When it comes, we will go and be with Jesus

We will become new creatures, the old will pass away and the new will come

But until that day comes, let’s be grateful for the life we have and the time we have

Time teaches us that faith, hope, and love abound, but the greatest of these is love

Connection, community…and cost

Humans seem hard-wired to seek connection. From ‘finding your tribe’ to cliques that form in school and, looking back a little further, the idea that no man is an island, the need to connect is pervasive. You see it in culture as well where a country-wide obsession with the Traitors provided a frame of reference for communication and shared stories.

Could it be that we seek connection because we are actually hard-wired that way? That we have been made for connection and community?

Johann Hari (Lost Connections) argues that the root of modern anxiety and depression is more than just a chemical imbalance, it is disconnection. He identifies different types of disconnection as the root of modern emotional suffering: disconnection from meaningful work, other people, values, childhood trauma, status and respect, the natural world and a secure future. 

I wonder if any of those resonate with you? 

At Ocean Church we are trying to develop practices to aid connection, specifically to other people and the natural world, through our three habits. I recognise my need for this, but frequently come up against the cost of this. 

Building connection always carries a cost, and it's nearly always upfront. Take connecting to nature. My amazing wife gets up early at least once every weekend to go sea swimming and the invitation is always open for me to join her and go for a run by the ocean. At my best, I take hold of this opportunity with both hands and love it. Running by the vast stretch of the ocean as the sun comes up is incredible. But… instead I could stay in bed where it is warm and snuggly and not go outside where, these days, it is frequently cold and damp. 

When there I never regret it. The connection to creation, to the sea, the wind, glimpses of the winter sun. Time at the beach is never wasted.

Or take connecting to other people. We love having people round for a meal and making time to go deep (Big Table was great for this!) But there is still an upfront cost. Planning the meal, buying the food, tidying the house at least a little bit. But the conversation and community formed over food is fantastic. 

I wonder if the bigger cost though, like Hari suggests, is in not connecting.

I believe there is another connection that is even more vital, the connection to the divine. Hari does talk about spirituality, but is not specific on this. Christianity teaches that we are made for community. More than this, God Himself is community, living in relationship as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. 

In the book of Acts, Paul says God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ quoting a Cretan philosopher. How can we connect to the One in whom we actually have our being?

And again there is a cost involved. We are told to put others first, to turn the other cheek, to carry our cross, to suffer hardships. But a deeper cost was paid to enable us to connect with the Divine, the Holy, the Almighty. The cost of the cross.

So where does this leave us? Next weekend, shall I get out of bed early to connect with nature? Get organised and invite some friends round? Or seek, reach out for and find the One who is not far from any one of us? 

Where are you connected?

Wild Minds

Our most recent season at Ocean Church involved exploring the idea of having Wild Minds.

It was an intentional time of considering how our thoughts link to faith. Additionally, it was the

first time I have explored the topic of neurodiversity within a church context. Some moments

from the last few months stand out. One of these was trying to depict my mind using items

could be found on the beach, such as sticks, shells and stones Try it – the process can

teach you, even if the end image doesn’t seem to reveal much! During another session, we

were asked whether we liked our minds. It was humbling to listen to others sharing

vulnerably about the challenges presented in living with their minds.

As part of the focus on Wild Minds, we hosted a book club at our house where we read

content where either the authors or the characters they included had neurodiversity of some

sort. It stimulated conversation about some of the challenges members of our community

have dealt with and face to this day with living with their own or a family member’s

neurodiversity. Hearing new voices helped me to understand in greater depth the journeys

that others are on.

Another way that Ocean Church facilitated this was through organising the Big Table

initiative. For us that involved three households, three Sundays in October and three meals.

Each week of our Big Table experience involved a focus on the hosts, generally driven by

questions from the guests. Our children asked and answered too and across the three

weeks an eclectic range of topics were covered. We discussed, among other things, what

the best thing about being in our family was, our favourite places, empowering teenagers,

favourite colours, the church in Spain and France, how we all ended up in Dorset and of

course, ‘Why Ocean Church?’

Being part of the Big Table gave us a shared experience of community and a wider window

into each other’s lives. Friendships and relationships were deepened; it felt a precious and

encouraging time. We were able to understand the contexts we come from better and learn

about each other’s passions. It’s been special and we are fortunate to have met up again

since and have put another date in the diary to gather, eat and share together.

On Christmas Day on the beach when we gathered as a church, we were asked if there

were a star leading us into the next year, where we thought it might be heading. I found this

challenging – is there a destination that I can articulate myself as heading towards at the

moment? At times this is helpful analogy: in fact, I have already referred to a journey earlier

in this blog. I am reminded though too that in the second chapter of Matthew, it says the star

stopped over the house where Jesus was. Sometimes it is important to stop like the Magi

and be present where you are.

It has become clearer to me from exploring the theme of Wild Minds that depth is important

in understanding of each other. Making time to dig deeper has been important. It has been a

privilege to be part of that in different ways. At the beginning of a new year, it is a reminder to

encourage us to reveal more of the layers of ourselves and allow others to see who we more

deeply are.

Be intentional in 2026

As the new year begins, it presents us all with an opportunity to do an audit of our lives. To

look at the things that take up our time and energy, and maybe think about where the gaps

are where we could get involved in other things.

This time last year, my wife, Jenny, decided to take some art classes. At the time, her

expectations were fairly low, but over the year, she has realised that she has a real gift. She

has created some great artwork, which is displayed in both our daughter’s hall and our

kitchen. Without the intent to attend the course, none of this would have become a reality.

For most of us, it is a challenge to look down the road and see what is in store for us this

year. Of course, there are the mundane things that populate our lives, but I want to focus

on where the road is about to disappear in this photograph. You can start with the best

intentions, but sometimes life has a habit of getting in the way of our progress. If you look

at where the road appears to run out, consider where you want to be and what you want to

be doing.

As a safe driver, you should look well ahead—farther than the car directly in front of you. In

life, we should do the same, but how far in front do we look?

Let’s imagine you are walking down the road of life, thinking about what you want to do this

year. What I want to say to you is “be intentional.” Whether it is your studies, your job,

your family, your friends, or what you get involved in within your community. It might be

how you are using your gifts at the moment (the things you are naturally good at) or how

you interact with other people in groups you attend. Think about the gaps in your life. Is

there something new that you could start doing that will enrich your life and the lives of

others? Perhaps you have been thinking about it for a while, but you have never really got

going. Maybe now is the time.

Being intentional particularly relates to our friendships. As I have gotten older, I have

realised that you have to work hard at relationships. You need to invest in them. Rather

than waiting for people to contact you, be intentional and be the first to reach out to them.

Using the image of the road, who are you walking with at the moment? We are not

designed to be islands. We are designed to be in relationship with others. Are there people

who have been significant in your life in the past who you have lost touch with? This might

be a good time to contact them. There may be people who have featured in your friendship

group, people who are good for you. Just as one piece of iron can sharpen another through

friction, people improve each other through interaction. Are there people like that who

have been in your life that you can look up and re-engage with? And thirdly, be alert to new

friendships in 2026. It was Michael Bublé who sang “I just haven’t met you yet.”

So, if you are looking for positive change in 2026, be intentional. I encourage you to put

that phrase in your memory bank and to start using it.

Until the next time. Happy New Year.

Wild Faith: A Guide to Finding God and Community in the Great Outdoors

There’s a moment that happens by the sea.

You know it.

The wind’s doing that thing where it messes up your hair and somehow clears your head at the same time. The tide is halfway out. Gulls are arguing about chips. The horizon just keeps going. And something in you loosens. Shoulders drop. Breathing slows. The noise inside quiets down enough for you to notice it’s been noisy for a while.

And right there—without a stained-glass window in sight—you feel it.

This feels holy.

For a lot of people, this is where God makes sense. Not in pews. Not in programmes. Not under fluorescent lights. But here. On a beach. In a forest. On a paddleboard drifting a little further than you meant to.

If that’s you—if you’d describe yourself as spiritual-but-not-religious, curious-but-cautious, open-but-done-with-institutions—then you’re not broken. You’re normal. You’re paying attention. Some people call this Wild Faith.

This is the heartbeat behind Ocean Church. We are an Outdoor Church in the UK, rooted on the Dorset coast around Poole and Bournemouth. We’re part of a growing wild Church movement, but more than that, we’re people trying to live faith as a way of life—salt-stung, wind-shaped, shared around tables, campfires and kayaks.

So grab a coffee. Let’s talk about why the wild keeps calling us—and why God so often meets us there.

The Theology of the Wild

Why God keeps showing up outside

Long before anyone built a church, God was already outside.

Walking in gardens. Speaking from burning bushes. Meeting people in deserts, storms, mountains, and fishing boats. Jesus does most of his teaching not from behind a lectern but while walking, eating, climbing hills, crossing water.

There’s an old idea called “thin places.” It comes from Celtic spirituality, and it’s the sense that in certain places the veil between heaven and earth feels… thinner. Easier to breathe through. Less defended.

Coastlines are like that.

Maybe it’s because they’re edges. Land meets sea. Solid meets fluid. Control meets surrender. You can’t dominate the ocean—you can only respond to it. Which already puts you in the right posture for prayer.

There’s also the ancient idea of the “Book of Nature.” Alongside scripture, creation itself tells the story of God. The psalms are full of it:

“The heavens declare the glory of God…” Psalm 19:1

Not explain. Not argue. Declare.

Nature doesn’t try to convince you of anything. It just is. And in being what it is, it points beyond itself.

Theologians like Augustine talked about this centuries ago. Modern thinkers keep circling back to it. And honestly, I reckon surfers feel it everyday. I know for me, the most spiritual place I can be is among the waves.

Out there, you’re small—but not insignificant. Held—but not controlled. Known—but not managed. The apostle Paul speaks about it. He says

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities- his eternal power and divine nature- have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people were without excuse.” Romans 1:20

That’s theology you can feel in your body.

[Placeholder: Link to blog post on Thin Places or Coastal Spirituality]

The Three Rhythms

Faith as habits, not hype

At Ocean Church, we’re not just trying to run events that you attend. We’re trying to practice a way of life you can actually live.

Our programme is pretty stripped down so we can focus on three rhythms. Simple. Repeatable. Human.

Not rules. Rhythms.

Rhythm 1: The Table (community and food)

Eating together like it matters

A surprising amout of important things in the Bible happen around food.

Jesus eats with friends. With enemies. With people everyone else avoids. He cooks breakfast on a beach after the resurrection. He turns meals into moments where people feel seen.

Eating together slows us down. It puts us eye-to-eye. It reminds us that faith is physical—hands passing bread, mugs clinking, kids interrupting conversations.

In a culture obsessed with speed and productivity, shared meals are quietly rebellious.

At Ocean Church, this might look like:

• Beach breakfasts after a cold-water dip

• Fish and chips eaten off car boots

• Soup flasks passed around on a windy headland

• BBQs where nobody’s in charge and everyone brings something

This is church.

Not the talk about love—the practice of it.

[Placeholder: Link to blog post on Eating Together / Table Rhythms]

Rhythm 2: Creation (meeting God outdoors)

Meeting God where you already feel alive

This is the rhythm most people recognise first.

Surfing. Hiking. Swimming. Walking the dog in Hamworthy Park. Sitting quietly on a paddleboard while the river moves underneath you.

This isn’t about adding “spiritual content” to outdoor activities. It’s about noticing that God is already there, waiting for you to catch up.

We encourage people to meet with God outside as regularly as possible.

Jesus regularly withdrew to lonely places. Not to escape people, but to meet with the faither, remember who he was and why he was doing what he was doing.

Nature does that to us. It strips away the performance. The noise. The curated versions of ourselves.

You don’t need fancy words. Sometimes prayer is just breathing with the tide. Sometimes it’s naming what you’re carrying. Sometimes it’s silence that says more than sentences ever could.

This is nature-based spirituality that doesn’t float away from real life—it roots you deeper into it.

[Placeholder: Link to blog post on Prayer Outdoors or Blue Space Spirituality]

Rhythm 3: Household (we aren’t solo adventurers)

Faith where life actually happens

For a lot of people, faith feels like something you go to. A place. A time slot. A thing you attend.

We’re more interested in faith you live with.

Households are where real formation happens. Around bedtime routines. Over school runs. During arguments and reconciliations. In laughter. In exhaustion.

In the early church, faith spread through homes long before it had buildings. Stories were told at tables. Prayers whispered over children. Hospitality was the engine of the movement.

This rhythm might look like:

• A simple question at dinner: “Where did you notice God today?”

• Lighting a candle once a week and sitting quietly together

• Blessing your kids before school

• Saying grace without making it weird

No pressure. No perfection. Just presence.

[Placeholder: Link to blog post on Faith at Home / Household Worship]

Community Beyond the Pew

Adventure Church and shared life

We don’t do rows. We do circles. And sometimes wetsuits.

Ocean Church is part of a wider movement exploring Christian community and adventure—faith formed through shared experiences rather than passive consumption.

So yes, we surf. We hike. We paddle. We swim. We eat outdoors. We get rained on. We laugh when plans change.

But the point isn’t adrenaline.

The point is togetherness.

Adventure does something powerful. It levels people. You don’t care what someone does for work when you’re both cold and trying to light a stove. You don’t hide behind titles when you’re sharing snacks on a cliff path.

This is Alternative Church for people who don’t want to opt out of faith—but don’t fit the mould either.

Church in Poole doesn’t have to mean bricks and bells. Sometimes it looks like sandy feet and a shared flask.

[Placeholder: Link to blog post on Adventure Church or Ocean Church Gatherings]

Stewards of the Coast

Why care for Dorset is sacred work

If creation is a gift, then looking after it isn’t optional—it’s relational.

The Dorset coast has shaped us. The chalk cliffs. The changing tides. The fragile ecosystems just beneath the surface of Poole Harbour.

Loving a place means taking responsibility for it.

For us, environmental care isn’t a political add-on. It’s a spiritual response. Picking up litter. Respecting wildlife. Teaching kids to leave only footprints.

The Bible begins in a garden and ends in a city where heaven and earth overlap. Stewardship sits right in the middle.

When we care for the coast, we’re practicing gratitude. We’re saying, This matters. This is sacred.

And honestly? The sea has taught us humility better than any sermon ever could.

[Placeholder: Link to blog post on Creation Care or Environmental Stewardship]

So… What Now?

An invitation into Wild Faith

If you’ve ever felt closer to God watching the sun sink into the sea than sitting in a service…
If you’ve ever wondered whether faith could be simpler, truer, more embodied…
If you’re longing for community that doesn’t ask you to leave half of yourself at the door…

Then maybe this is your next step.

Not into a building—but into a rhythm.
Not into certainty—but into trust.
Not away from faith—but deeper into it.

Wild Faith isn’t about escaping the world. It’s about inhabiting it fully. With wonder. With courage. With others.

The tide’s always moving.
The invitation’s always there.

Come and see.

Ocean Church is an Outdoor Church in the UK, rooted on the Dorset coast. If you’re looking for an alternative church community shaped by nature, adventure, and shared life, come and join us on our next adventure.

What does Christmas mean to you?

As you read this, no matter who you are, you will have memories of Christmas. In

the lead-up to the big day, I wanted to paint two very different scenes of how it might

be. It can be a happy time for some, whilst it can be a very challenging time for

others.

What kind of words come to mind when you think of Christmas? Carols, presents,

bright lights, festive music, Christmas dinner, snow, being with family? Oh, so many

things.

The photo that goes with this blog is a shop window of the Entertainer toy shop. It is

owned by a Christian couple. Each year, they dedicate one of their windows in each

of their shops to the nativity scene. They could so easily cram it full of toys during

the busiest time of the year, making the most of their shop window. Not only that,

they don’t open on a Sunday, instead observing a day of rest. To me, their window

displays capture the true meaning of Christmas.

Christmas will manifest itself in many different ways this year. Let’s consider how it

might be. In life, we like to portray that we are just like the family next door in the

street. But for some, behind closed doors, it is not.

This Christmas, it is a fact that thousands of children across the UK risk waking up to

nothing. With more than half of parents and carers saying they can’t afford presents

for someone this Christmas.

It’s hard to believe in the modern world we live in that this is the reality. But poverty

is a real problem, and much of it is hidden.

Financial hardship is one thing, but something else that is a real issue in modern-day

Britain is loneliness. Whilst you might think this relates mainly to older people,

statistically, 50% of people admitted to being lonely sometimes. It can be hard when

it feels like everyone else is enjoying the time of the year, and you’re on the outside.

Maybe you’re thinking, well, this is all a bit depressing. Well, yes, it is but it is worth

thinking about as we head into the Christmas season. There is always someone out

there who is having a harder time than you.

So, what about you? What are your memories of Christmas? We all have them. I

used to think we were hard up as a family, but when you take into consideration what

we have just thought about, we were really blessed. Here are some of my

memories.

I have to be honest, our Christmas decorations growing up were a bit sad. The

same every year, just older.

As a child, I remember waking up early to open my presents, which were neatly

placed at the end of my bed. Like most children, we would wake up at rude o’clock

when we were young, which got later each year as we got older and preferred to

sleep in.

Church was a big part of our family growing up. There were lots of services, and on

occasion, we would go on Christmas morning and take our presents to show people

on stage.

Christmas lunch was always the main event and would take a huge effort to get

everyone around the table with a hot plate of food with all the trimmings. We always

ate too much. There were crackers with hats to wear and music, normally Cliff

Richard in our house. It was a relief when the washing up was all done and we

could settle down to the Queens speech. A real tradition.

I remember going to my aunt and uncle’s house each year. They had a real tree,

which they decked with many chocolates. After we had our Christmas lunch, they

would cut all the chocolates off of the tree and give them to us. We would go home

with a stash of chocolate that was much bigger than we would normally have. There

were 4 children, and we would make up plays to act out for the adults. I remember

my sister having her first Snowball drink. Happy times.

We might watch a film or a Christmas Special – Only Fools & Horses or Gavin &

Stacey. Then, as if we hadn’t eaten enough, there might be cheese and crackers

and Port for the adults.

By the end of the day, we would go to bed full of food, and perhaps more

importantly, emotionally full, having spent the day with family. We all have that

sense of belonging inside of us that needs to be nurtured.

As we head into the festive season, let’s remember the real meaning of Christmas.

Christmas is the celebration of Jesus Christ’s birth—the incarnation of God with us.

Beyond gifts and traditions, its core meaning is worshipping the Saviour who came to

bring hope, peace, and salvation.

I wonder if you have ever heard the phrase “reading the white.” When you look at a

page of writing, normally you look at the words. Reading the white means you read

what you can’t see.

As you enjoy this special time of the year once again, may I encourage you to read

the white and look out for those who might have less than you? Those who might be

struggling financially and those who are on their own.

Reaching out to others is what God did for us when he sent Jesus into the world.

And that, my friends, is the real meaning of Christmas.

Why waiting messes with us (in all the right ways)

Here’s the thing we all know but hate admitting: waiting does something to us. Psychologists talk about how waiting pulls us out of autopilot and drops us right into vulnerability.
You can’t control the pace.
You can’t fast-forward the process.
You can’t hack your way through the bit that feels uncomfortable.

Waiting exposes desire. It surfaces fear. It shows you what story you’re telling yourself.
It’s raw, and a little wild, because suddenly you're no longer steering the ship — you’re sitting with the uncomfortable truth that you never really were.

And our brains? They’re not huge fans. Waiting elevates anxiety because it interrupts predictability. The mind goes scanning for danger, scanning for certainty, scanning for some way to feel okay again. Which is why waiting — real waiting — is not passive at all. It’s active inner work disguised as stillness.

Why waiting in the dark feels even heavier

Now take all of that… and switch off the lights.

Darkness amplifies waiting.
It messes with our sense of direction.
When you can’t see the horizon, you lose your bearings. The simplest step feels bigger, riskier, because vision is one of our main anchors.

It wakes up our survival instincts.
Your brain starts whispering ancient scripts: darkness = danger. Not because you’re weak or dramatic — but because your ancestors spent thousands of years trying not to get eaten.

And it slows down our sense of time.
Without visual cues, time stretches. Minutes feel like hours. Your body starts asking, “Are we safe? Is this okay? Are we there yet?” Waiting in the dark isn’t just waiting — it’s waiting without your usual coping mechanisms.

Which makes Isaiah’s words hit differently.

“The people walking in darkness…” — a bit of context

Isaiah 9 wasn’t written for people admiring fairy lights and sipping mulled wine. It was spoken into a world where hope felt thin. The northern tribes of Israel had been invaded. Families displaced. Land lost. The future felt foggy at best, terrifying at worst.

Darkness wasn’t metaphorical.
It was political, emotional, spiritual, communal.
People were waiting — not for a minor upgrade to their life — but for rescue, restoration, renewal.

So when Isaiah proclaims, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light,” he’s naming something brave:

That waiting is not wasted.
That darkness isn’t the end.
That a story can hold tension and still be good.

This is why that ancient line keeps echoing across centuries. It carries the ache of people who waited longer than they wanted — and the strange, stubborn hope that something better was still on its way.

A moment on the beach last week

Which brings me to what we did at Ocean Church last week.
We stood in a circle on the beach at Hamworthy, the tide breathing in and out behind us, the cold quietly settling in. We passed around fairy lights, letting them glow against the dark.

And then we named the things we’re waiting for — the things we’re carrying into the night, the things we hope might one day break open with light. and we asked Jesus to shed light on them.

It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t scripted.
It was just a bunch of humans refusing to pretend the darkness isn’t real… while choosing to believe it won’t have the final word.

There was something beautiful about that — holding light together, even when we’re not sure what the next step looks like.

And here’s where Christmas sneaks in

Christmas, at its core, is a story about waiting.
A people waiting.
A world waiting.
A God not rushing but arriving slowly, quietly, vulnerably.

It’s the reminder that light doesn’t always burst in. Sometimes it flickers first.
Sometimes it grows slowly.
Sometimes it looks like a baby, not a solution.

Waiting doesn’t mean nothing’s happening.
Waiting doesn’t mean you’re behind.
Waiting doesn’t mean the dark wins.

It just means the story is still unfolding.

So if you find yourself waiting — especially in some kind of darkness — maybe hold that thought from Isaiah in your pocket:
Light is coming. It always has. It always does.

And until then… we wait.
Together.

On letter writing…

When did the last handwritten letter drop through your letterbox? Or, perhaps more to the point, when did you last put pen to paper and actually write a letter, address an envelope, affix a stamp and post it in a postbox?

The number of letters delivered by Royal Mail has dropped by more than two thirds in the last twenty years (Changes in Royal Mail). People are sending fewer letters. In Denmark, the postal service has actually stopped delivering letters altogether. (Danish postal service).

Is this just because of the rise of first emails, and then messaging and now social media? Is the written letter just outdated and unnecessary? Moribund even?

But there is something distinctly different between a personal, written letter and a message on WhatsApp. A written letter is a tangible, tactile, physical reminder of a certain moment in time. It speaks of who you and the writer were at that time and of your relationship. It is a snapshot capturing a moment in time, preserving it.

In the Summer I went up in my loft and got down a box full of letters. Mainly they were in exciting airmail envelopes with exotic looking stamps but less exciting addresses. They chart my relationship and communications with Roz (then a long-distance girlfriend, now my wife), especially from the time she was living in Peru. Before Zoom or Skype or the like, we were able to talk on the phone sometimes, but it was letters that kept us connected. Looking back on them now, I can remember the anticipation at receiving a new one and feeling close - despite the distance. Letters can be deeply personal.

I also find the incredible popularity of ‘Letters Live’ interesting. Performers and celebrities read real letters from real people from a range of cultures and countries and times in history. Some are hilarious, belly laughingly funny, while others are heartwrenching. I dare you to watch a few performances on YouTube, just be warned that it is a possible rabbit hole it may take some time to emerge from. 

Adrian Edmondsen says “As an atheist, I find Letters Live the closest I’ve come to a religious experience. There’s something deeply personal and confessional about sharing a letter with people for one time, and one time only.”

If you think about it, there is a ‘Letters Live’ (or The Jolly Postman for an alternative reference) element to reading the Bible. Several books in the New Testament are actually letters written by one person to another, or a group of people. As such, the Bible contains verses like:

See what large letters I use as I write to you with my own hand! (Galatians 6:11)

Dear friends, this is now my second letter to you. I have written both of them as reminders to stimulate you to wholesome thinking. (2 Peter 3:1)

I wonder at the excitement and anticipation that would have been felt by the believers at receiving a new letter. The reading and re-reading. If we imagined ourselves in that position would that help us when reading parts of the Bible

As Miranda Sawyer says “Letters – more careful, more permanent – last longer. They have significance. They require composition, editing, thought, some crossing out and starting again. (Mark Twain once wrote to a friend: “I apologise for such a long letter, I didn’t have time to write a short one.”)”

Christmas is coming, an opportunity to write a letter! Is there someone you want to reconnect with or communicate with on a deeper level?

Now, where are the stamps?

Grabbing the bag- An all age approach to community cash

At our recent Ocean Church Vision Day, we tried something a little different.
Instead of sticking the adults in one room to talk budgets while the kids did crafts somewhere else, we brought everyone together —children, teens, and adults — and asked one simple question:

“If Ocean Church had a pot of money to spend, what should we spend it on?”

It was messy, colourful, loud, and surprisingly insightful.

Led brilliantly by Chris Downey (shout-out to the king of purple paper and felt-tips), we scattered big sheets around the room and invited every age to scribble ideas. Equipment, adventures, helping others, nature projects, staff time — everything went in the mix. The aim wasn’t to create a budget; we wanted to see what our community instinctively values.

And honestly? The patterns were clearer than I expected. Heres a few of my thoughts

1. Adventures are central to who we are.

Across every board the same things appeared:
surf camp, hikes, pilgrimages, breakfasts, beach gatherings, Parkrun, trips.

The message was simple:
People want shared outdoor experiences.
Movement, nature, and connection sit right at the heart of Ocean Church.

2. Equipment is a priority because it makes everything possible.

A huge amount of energy went toward practical kit:

Shelters, PA system, Watersports gear, Power packs, A van/camper, Kitchen equipment, Gardening and litter-picking tools, Outdoor sports gear

Some of these things are essentials and some are extras, but together they make our gatherings smoother, safer, and more enjoyable. Equipment is part of what helps a mobile, outdoor church actually function.

3. People and leadership matter.

A surprising number of groups wrote about the need for:

Admin support, Marketing, Training, Future staff, Youth work, Leadership development, Support for the minister

This tells us the community sees the need for capacity behind the scenes, not just activity out front.
People understand that a growing movement needs more shoulders carrying the load.

4. Generosity is a natural instinct.

Even without being prompted, almost every board mentioned:

Supporting the poor, Helping those in need, Giving to other churches, Conservation and nature care, Local community support

Our people want Ocean Church to look outward, not just inward. How do we do generosity with other people? What or who is God calling us to give to?

5. Creation care keeps showing up.

There were lots of nature-focused ideas:

Seeds and planting, Gardening tools, Land for community use, Conservation, Ecology talks, Community growing spaces, Litter-picking

We don’t just meet outdoors — we care about the places we gather.
There’s a shared desire for responsibility, stewardship, and learning.

We wrote a blog a while back about Dorsets nature recovery strategy. Perhaps tha might be something for us to pray about?

6. We don’t need a big building, but we could use a base.

No one asked for a traditional church building.
But plenty of people mentioned:

A field, A campervan, A beach hut, A simple shelter, A hub to store equipment

This isn’t a call for infrastructure-heavy church life.
It’s a desire for a practical “basecamp” — a modest hub to support everything else we do.

7. Hospitality matters, even in small ways.

Among the bigger ideas were simple things:

• Food

• Gas

• Seasonal supplies

• Snacks

• Consumables

These small touches hold community together.
Warm food after cold water, shared drinks, simple comforts — these things genuinely matter.

So what does all this tell us?

When you put it all together, I think some clarity around a direction emerges:

• Keep prioritising outdoor adventures.

• Strengthen our equipment base.

• Build leadership and admin capacity.

• Stay generous.

• Embed creation care.

• Explore a simple basecamp for the future.

• Keep hospitality warm and simple.

This wasn’t a budgeting exercise — it was a values conversation.
And it showed us who we already are and who we’re becoming.

The magic in the mundane

Most of life seems to be made up of mundane, humdrum, everyday moments. Washing up, commuting to work, cooking tea, separating the recycling. 

But if I am just waiting for the spectacular, firework moments I can disdain all the rest of it. This is the trouble with fiction, be it books, TV series or films. All of the exciting stuff is condensed, squeezing out the mundane. I guess going to the loo doesn’t make for good TV though.

How can I find the extraordinary in the ordinary? If it is true that “in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17: 28) then all of life can be significant. Not spectacular necessarily, but significant. 

The essential thing ‘in heaven and earth’ is that there should be a long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living.

Fredrich Nietzsche. I recommend reading that through several times. 

“How you do anything is how you do everything.” says Joshua Luke Smith in his poem Sunflowers in Babylon. Am I faithful in the small things of life? The seemingly unimportant moments that are forgotten in an instant but constitute a long obedience in the same direction. He champions significant over spectacular.

It’s like a truth that I know but don’t want to acknowledge. A big desire for me is to be a good, faithful father. This, though, includes sleepless nights, clearing up sick, correcting and forgiving, asking forgiveness, setting boundaries

We see this principle in action in all parts of life: the concert musician endlessly practicising scales; the world-record holding marathon runner training and stretching early mornings; the craftsman sanding the wood again and again until it is just right. 

This is the complete antithesis of the quick fix, the instant result or the overnight success. It is tortoise-not-hare slow and steady. Deep. 

It is formational, hard work and disciplined. Repetitive, focused and … dare I say, boring at times? I hesitate to write this, is it true? The answer must be yes. Continuing in the same direction, following the mundane, will, at times, be boring. It is about incremental progress that can only be seen after a long time. 

A long obedience in the same direction. It’s only when you look back that you see how far you’ve come and see the magic in the mundane. 

In her book ‘Regrets of the Dying’, Georgina Scull interviewed people who knew they didn’t have long left to live. She says this about those everyday, mundane moments:

In the end, those are the things that seem to mean the most. It’s the day trips to the seaside, the first days at school, the chats over the back fence when we need a laugh or a helping hand. Because these are the stuff of life. And if we value one-off Insta-moments more than moments like this, more than the everyday, we risk not valuing the things that actually matter. And the everyday can be wonderful, if we let it.

What would it take to value, notice and enjoy those small, humdrum moments? The wonderful everyday; the extraordinary ordinary; the magic in the mundane?

Habits

A balloon bursting. A dog barking. Even a sudden intake of breath from a family member in the next room. These all have the potential to make me jump, making me aware of a spike in my heart-rate and a shot of adrenaline being sent around my body. Rationally I know that any of those experiences are not causes for genuine alarm but my natural reaction is to flinch and find my body on edge. This is not to say that oversensitive reactions don’t sometimes have their place – on numerous occasions I have found myself catching a mug or plate that has slipped out of my grasp before I consciously realised what I was doing. 

Reflecting on this made me think about some of the other things I do automatically or without thinking. Looking at the BBC Sport website first thing in the morning; checking for ‘wallet, keys, phone’ before leaving the house; putting milk in at the only possible correct time when making a cup of tea. Most of us would see ourselves as creatures of habit in significant areas of our lives. 

Habits on their own are neutral: some are helpful whilst others less so. Identifying the behaviours we exhibit which have a negative effect on ourselves or others can be tough. They are also difficult to change – a brief appraisal of the success of any New Year’s resolutions we have kept by February would be a good testament of this. The language of ‘habits’ is one we use at Ocean Church, where we seek to foster positive habits in our families and as a community. 

The Bible doesn’t reference the notion of habits much explicitly. However, in the letter to the Romans, Paul says, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God.” (Romans 12:2) It is translated slightly differently in The Message as follows: “Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out.” 

Both translations seem to be making the point that a life of faith is not about naively fitting into the society around us. Instead, we need to be willing and ready to change our minds, not on whims, but as a result of focusing on the divine and God’s desires. We need to be humble enough to accept that our current opinions and points of view may change. What might transform our thinking? 

My best guess in this season of exploring ‘Wild Minds’ is that it depends on how we are wired. For some it will be reading more widely or listening to talks or podcasts from people of faith outside our usual circles that may provoke and shape us. For others, it will be time spent in each other’s company, listening to challenges, sharing our struggles and paying attention to the collective wisdom. More may find experiences out in nature speak to our souls as we ask God to mould us. 

My reaction to balloons and other sudden loud noises is unlikely to change. What I do have more control over is the way that I behave at work, around my family and the way that I think about and treat other people. Habit formation is time-consuming and involves perseverance. With the knowledge that scripture encourages us to be willing to change our minds following time in God’s presence, we can take heart that this transformation is possible. 

Inopportune opportunities

As someone wise once said opportunity knocks at the least opportune time. 

This is especially true when it comes to parenting. It is invariably late at night when my daughter will want to have a heart to heart about a big issue. Rachel Jankovic says “Our opportunities to bless our children are often most present when we least feel like it.” 

When we are busy or tired or burdened. Or just not feeling it.

If we take Jesus as our example though it is quite a challenge. He took opportunities whenever they arrived. He was seemingly always interruptible. This actually seemed to be quite annoying for his companions and followers at times. 

An extreme example of this occurs in the gospel of Mark chapter five. Jairus- a Synagogue leader, a big cheese- asks Jesus to come and heal his daughter who is dying. I think it would be safe to assume this counts as a priority. It sounds pretty important. So Jesus agrees and goes to see the daughter. On the way people are crowding all around and someone in the crowd touches Jesus. Nothing more. But Jesus stops and is desperate to find out who had touched him. His followers cannot understand it: “How can you ask, ‘who touched me?’, look at the crowds!” But Jesus stops and investigates. To such an extent that people come to tell Jairus not to bother with Jesus: his daughter has died. 

If the story ended there it would seem like a tale of wrong priorities and a lack of urgency. Tragedy. 

But it doesn’t. Jesus still goes to Jairus’ house and actually raises his daughter back to life. Stunning. And then it turns out that the person who had touched Jesus from amongst the crowd was a woman who had been suffering with a crippling illness for twelve years. Simply touching Jesus had healed her. Breath-takingly beautiful.

What do I do with this?

How can I be alive to the opportunities today will throw my way? Framing them as opportunities, not interruptions, has to be a good start. It all depends on my outlook and my focus. If I’m too goal-orientated and self-absorbed opportunities all too often feel like obstacles to sidestep or clamber over.

What interruptions opportunities is God putting into my path today?

Dealing with disappointment

I wonder if you can remember what you were doing back in March 2020, as lockdown was enforced in the UK?  At the time, we were living as a family in Winchester.  My daughter Sophie was 20.  She had a dream to go to Australia.  It actually became more than a dream.  She gave in her notice at work, trained up her replacement and finished work on the Friday.  She had bought her ticket and was due to fly out to Australia the following Monday.  How excited was she!  Sophie has always been someone with big dreams who makes things happen.  The year before she flew to Bali.  She had an amazing time, but as her parents, it was a bit scary knowing she was on the other side of the world and there was nothing we could do if she got into difficulty.  

That weekend, there were lots of rumours about changes to travel regulations.  I am not sure we took them too seriously.  Sadly, Sophie found out that Australia was closing their borders, and no one would be allowed in.  Her trip was effectively cancelled at the last moment.  How cruel.  Not only that, but she had finished her job and would spend the next few months at home with her family rather than having an amazing adventure in Australia.  What a massive disappointment!

So that is our daughter Sophie.  What about you?  If I say the word “disappointment,” what feelings and emotions does it bring up in you?

Dealing with disappointment is one of those tough but universal parts of being human. Whether it's a missed opportunity, an unmet expectation, or someone letting you down, it can hit hard.

Here are just a few things that might help you to process your disappointment:

Acknowledge It Honestly - Don’t minimise it or try to instantly move on.  Name the feeling: “I’m disappointed because…” 

Allow Yourself to Feel It - Disappointment hurts because it means you cared.  Let yourself feel frustrated or sad for a bit. Bottling it up or forcing positivity too soon can make it worse in the long run.

Talk to Someone - Vent, reflect, or just feel heard. Sharing disappointment can shrink its power and remind you that you're not alone in the experience.  We’ve all heard the phrase “a problem shared is a problem halved.”

Ask someone to pray with you – Your heavenly father knows you better than anyone else on the outside and maybe more importantly on the inside.  Talking through your disappointments and then giving them to God can really help lighten the load.

Keep Moving - Eventually, when the time is right, take action. Even a small step — a new plan, a different goal, or re-engaging with something that grounds you — starts to shift the weight of disappointment.

We know that time is a healer.  Raw emotion will eventually ease.  Perhaps the best antidote to disappointment is hope.

Hope is the belief or expectation that something good can happen in the future, especially in the face of difficulty or uncertainty. It’s both a feeling and a mindset—a way of emotionally and mentally orienting ourselves toward possibilities, rather than being paralysed by fear and despair.

My daughter Sophie hasn’t made it to Australia yet, but in time, I believe she will, and it will be the right time for her.

I leave you with my favourite verse in all the Bible:

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.  Jeremiah 29 v 11

Hold onto that rainbow, your future is just around the corner.