I’ve wrestled with this all my life. I wish I was confident enough to say how God speaks to me. I’d like a road map, please God, on how to hear you. I’d like to place my feet in your footprints on the sand just like in the poem. But I never have felt that. And good people, well meaning people, people of firm faith and great integrity have told me how very clearly God speaks to them. It’s by the process of prayer of course. But the intricacies of the process have always eluded

I don’t know about you, but my outsides don’t always necessarily reflect my insides. My insides often feel as though they are permanently on speed, the volume in my brain is turned up to max and the obsessional thoughts which hijack my waking moments think it’s party time all day, every day and come out to play. It’s the current malaise of our times isn’t it? Anxiety. Stress. Worry. Fear. I’ve felt like this though for pretty much all of my life before it ever became accepta

Today is the feast day of St Francis, the patron saint of animals, the environment and ecology. The day when we remember this small...

For a long time, I’ve been saying Compline as I go to bed. It’s not long, it’s full of consoling phrases and lulls me off to sleep in a...

The night before my mum’s funeral I ate three large lamb chops and one solid sticky toffee pudding. (With custard). Now for someone who...

There comes a point after a death when you have to get out of your pyjamas. They smell fusty, the room smells fusty, you smell fusty....

There was an article in last Sunday’s paper written by David Cameron – our erstwhile prime minister who famously led the country out of...

Since September I’ve been going to a keep-fit class twice a week called ‘Forever Active.’ It’s aimed at those of us who are drawing their...

Now, as you know (or maybe not) I’m currently a novice in the Third Order of Franciscans and am just entering my fourth year in the...