They say it is morning. They say the sun has risen. They say the dew is fresh upon the olive leaves, and the birds sing as they always...

I lit a candle. Not for peace— not yet— but for the man who called himself the Bread of Life, now broken, butchered, starved by the world...

The Rejected Stone (Matthew 21:42; Matthew 24:2) They passed him by— this rough-hewn truth, still dusted with wilderness. Not the kind...

She moved like silence in a room full of eyes, broke the jar like a prophet breaks the sky. No words, just oil — and the scent of burial....

I don’t want to be a Christian who forgets how to feel— who hides behind answers, quotes verses like shields, and silences sorrow with a...

Found a Bible in the foodbank queue, someone left it wedged in the radiator. Fell open to Mary’s song— The ‘Magnificat’, they call it....

One foot in Eden, where light spills soft through the branches, and the river sings a song without sorrow. Here, the air is thick with...

Blessed be the One, wild and holy, whose breath stirs the void, whose voice hums in all things, whose light flickers in the deep. ...

Night spills across the earth like oil, thick with the hush of waiting. I slip between waking and the deep unseen, where time is...

“We may possess and may practice a dogmatics, an ethics, and a proper worldview such as the given tradition requires but still leave...

Today, the Lighthouse team continued their book study of ‘The Wood Between the Worlds: A Poetic Theology of the Cross.’ After discussing...

Give thanks for the longing within, for the hunger that will not be silenced. Speak of the beauty that lingers still, of the mystery that...

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river, and he is not the same man." —Heraclitus The River I Step In...

“Bats or great crested newts?” “Neither, because I want growth, ” - Rachel Reeves, Times Interview, Quick Fire Questions ‘Bats or Great...

There is a trembling beneath all things, a quiet undoing woven into the fabric of being. The earth shifts, waters rise, and I too am...

There is a thirst— a restless, raging thirst we cannot name, a yearning without object, a hunger beyond the reach of reason, a void...

Drill, baby, drill— strange words, a chant from a strange man in a strange world. Forests burn, their ancient voices smothered in smoke....

Step beyond the comforts of romanticised religion, beyond a hope too soft, too distant. Move towards the wounded, the image-bearers in...

You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see”- Mother Teresa Find your own Calcutta— a descent, an incarnation...

Hope is not a calculation,   not a tally of gains or losses,   but the ache of a heart   stretched toward the horizon,   a whisper of...