If you find yourself confused, if you feel you are walking in the dark not knowing if the ground in front of you is safe, not knowing where you are headed: welcome. Maybe your faith has started to crack apart. Maybe you have spent a decade or more caring for children and now the pressure has finally eased you do not know who you are. Maybe after two years living through a global pandemic the things you thought you wanted no longer make sense. Maybe you have suffered loss and tragedy and are questioning everything. This is for you. In the last decade I learnt...

This is part two of a post about how my understanding that God is male got in the way of me figuring out what I want. You can just read this post (it will still make sense), or you might like to read part one first. You can read part one here. The idea that God is male is deeply ingrained. Inside the church and outside of it. For a long time this didn't bother me. I didn't even think about it. It was just the way it was and had always been. But in the last decade, as I have woken up...

In my last blog post I wrote about the most dangerous question: What do you want? This week I want to write to you about a belief that has gotten in the way of me asking that question. (And this is a bit convoluted so you’ll have to go with me). The belief: God is a man. Okay, let’s start with the easy stuff. No, of course I dont think God is a man (ie. hu-man), apart from when he appeared in fully human form as Jesus. He is divine, ultimate, above and beyond our comprehension of what ‘man’ or gender is. But despite this...

I want to tell you about the most dangerous question. And when I say dangerous I mean; difficult, contested, threatened but ultimately life-giving question. It is a question I have been asking myself for the past couple of years on a regular basis. I am ill-equipped to answer it. The question: What do you want? Or, as I ask myself, What do I want? This question shouldn't be hard. I know for lots of people it isn't. Most (not all admittedly, but most) men dont seem to struggle with this question. And I have numerous female friends who don't have to pause for a second before clearly...

Part of winter is bare ground. Stretches of earth with nothing growing. The necessary time between planting seed or bulb, and the first shoots. At certain times in my life the bare ground stretching out before me felt life giving. There were moments in my teenage years when the joy of realising how much I had to learn and discover was exhilarating. The first art exhibition I went to on my own. The first time I walked home in the dark because I didn’t have enough money for the taxi. The first time I went to Paris. My first kiss. The...

I prefix this post by saying: The church is made up of humans who are flawed and messed up, and get lots of things wrong. And despite everything, on Sundays you will find me in church. Because even though this family is dysfunctional, it is home. Like everyone else, we Christians love success. We love the sheen of it and the triumphant music. We love the way it smells and makes us feel. We love to wave our golden ticket, while we are GETTING IT RIGHT AND TELLING YOU ABOUT IT. We want to be heroes in our neighbourhood; helping the sick and...

When things are taking their ordinary course, it is hard to remember what matters. There are so many things you would never think to tell anyone.  And I believe they may be the things that mean most to you...

The simplest truths are the hardest to hold onto. It was the school nativity this morning. My children are too old to take part and I wasn't sure if I could spare the time. But the excitement in the yard was infectious and I found myself walking round to the front of the building, entering through the main doors and taking my place with all the other parents in the hall. The collection of angels wearing over-sized t-shirts adorned with tinsel sung of the glory of God. Some waved as they spotted their Mum or Dad in the packed assembly hall. My friend and...

I was raised on testimonies of healing. I was taught about the miraculous, Jesus healing the blind man, that meeting in South America when someone was raised from the dead, the missions in Africa where people had seen limbs re-grow and hearing restored. I thought healing was the only answer to the question of illness, because illness was always a sign something was badly wrong in your soul or heart or the world, right? I spent a long time waiting for the happy ending when I would stand and say I was now better. That my mental health was inviolable. When I would proclaim the...

What follows are some thoughts on moving from one place to another. We are living in Anglesey at the moment (for a three month sabbatical) but these words are not about a literal move, but a metaphorical one. The past few years I have been on the border, crossing from one way of life to another. My blog is subtitled 'Learning How To Live' because this is what I have been doing: learning how to live in a new way, in a new space. I have been transitioning from one way of thinking about myself, my life, my faith and the world in which I live, to...