…Blip. Oh. Well, that's the power gone. And I don't just mean electricity. Where's a techie when you need one? He's no good now. At least he has his dramaturgy to fall back on.

These things would only ever happen in church or in a crisis. (Like Tom Hanks with an ice skate — needs must. Sometimes. Other times it's inappropriate, dangerous, outrageous and misguided.) Hence my new fancy word, ship-wreck-less-ons. The kind of things any one of us might learn in Chapter Seventeen.

In slow traffic a bold sticker on the car in front becomes the talking point. What's his story, I wonder.

Not another thing! How on earth can someone be expected to rejoice when they've just heard the flock is even cut off from the fold now?

Sitting in the morning's stillness, wondering if being disarmed and bound could also be an embrace? A reflection on Mark 3, distraction, stillness, and learning to listen.

In a world where you need and what you can give is part of the answer as well as the question, all kinds of doors and windows might open.

We use words all the time, and sometimes because they just come out. Is that okay for poetry? For prayer? For other people?