“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...

Do not be afraid. Bid farewell to fear. There is no shadow so deep that love cannot reach it, no sin so vast it could exhaust the...

Hope leans forward, tender, listening to the whispers of creation groaning for renewal. It does not turn its face from shadows but gazes...

As it’s Advent, this poem/reflection might seem out of place. However, I was recently listening to a podcast about the Aztecs that...

The Bible presents us with an epic love-shaped narrative, a story of salvation, a history of hope, and a metanarrative of mercy, which...

The world is not what we think it is. We have been told a lie: that it is mere physicality, A random assembly of atoms, A cosmos...

I carry words unspoken, hidden beneath the surface, not because they are forgotten, but because they are too heavy to be set free....

Hope can be elusive, slipping through our grasp like morning fog, leaving behind the stark reality of suffering. For my lighthouse...

Life, though common to all of us, remains profoundly strange- a puzzle, a mystery. We are biological beings, products of evolution, yet...

The keys, once pure, now lie fractured in a Leeds square. Broken yet beautiful, they mirror us— image bearers, wounded but still...