Showing posts with label Church and Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church and Christianity. Show all posts

Wednesday, 22 July 2026

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made Report: What you need to know

The Church of England released the Fearfully and Wonderfully Made report in February this year, but I know many have still not read it, even though it’s one of the most important pieces of research on disabled and neurodivergent clergy the Church has ever commissioned. It shapes how I live as a disabled Christian with FSHD and autism, my children and disabled friends lives, my calling and ministry, and how I navigate the ordination process.

I’ve mentioned it many times here but I realised I’ve never actually broken it down or explained it in a way that helps people understand what it says, why it matters, and how it affects real lives for those who haven’t read the seventy‑three page document. This post is my attempt to do that. A guide for anyone who wants to understand disability wellbeing in the Church of England.

Sunday, 19 July 2026

Neurodiversity and the Church: Archbishop Sarah Mullally's Synod Statement

This week Archbishop Sarah Mullally shared that neurodiversity is a gift, not a problem to be solved, while speaking at Synod about the need for neurodivergent-led training, structural change, and a network of Neurodiversity Champions across every diocese. She spoke openly about her dyslexia, the assumptions made about her, and the way she learned to see herself as intentionally made by God. Reading this felt like a blessing that landed at a time when I’m still processing my own ASD diagnosis, the battles it took to get it, and everything it has reframed, especially as I received my ASD assessment report the same day this article was published.

Sunday, 12 July 2026

When Honour Meets Barriers

Tomorrow we gather to honour my curate, Sue at her thanksgiving service. 175 people have signed up. Our church fits around 140 – 150, and more will likely arrive. The hall across the road is our overflow space, livestreaming the service for those unable to fit in the church. It will be a big day. It should be. She was an incredible presence.

Friday, 19 June 2026

A Sunday That Felt Like Coming Home

Some Sundays at church are work. Some are worship. This week was worship.

It’s not always easy to enjoy church when you serve there. There is always something to do, someone to speak to, and a task waiting. The Sunday before was like that. I had much needed work conversations before the service. The service itself was fine, but I wasn't uplifted. The sung worship was good and the band did well. The lead made me laugh with a story about her competitive streak when naming her childhood bear, which suited our teddy bears picnic theme.

Monday, 8 June 2026

When Service Styles Clash and Church Identity Drifts

Dark silhouette of a church against a rich purple background, split vertically by a glowing crack symbolising division and drifting identity within the church community.

I’ve seen my church grow, change, survive and thrive over the last sixteen years, but recently I've seen how fragile our identity has become when different backgrounds form and push different expectations of church and service styles. When those expectations clash with other leaders and congregation members, it splits the Church’s direction.

Friday, 29 May 2026

A Pentecost Study: Wind

 A Pentecost Study: Part 3 - Wind

“Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting.” (Acts 2:2)

Wind is one of the oldest and most mysterious images of God’s presence. In Hebrew, the word ruach means wind, breath, or spirit — the invisible movement that gives life. In the beginning, the Spirit of God hovered over the waters (Gen. 1:2), stirring creation into being. Later, God breathed into Adam’s nostrils the breath of life (Gen. 2:7). The same breath that moves the air also animates the soul. Wind is not seen, but its effects are felt — it moves, fills, and transforms.

Friday, 22 May 2026

A Pentecost Study: Fire

A Pentecost Study: Part 2 - Fire

“Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them and rested on each of them.” (Acts 2:3)


Fire is one of the most powerful images in Scripture. It is never merely decorative. It reveals, purifies, guides, judges, warms, and transforms. In the Old Testament, fire is often the sign of God’s holy presence. Moses meets God in a bush that burns but is not consumed (Exod. 3:2). Israel is led through the wilderness by a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night (Exod. 13:21). When the covenant is made with Abraham, God passes between the pieces as a smoking firepot and blazing torch (Gen. 15:17). Fire marks God’s nearness—dangerous, beautiful, and alive.

Wednesday, 20 May 2026

When a Life Shapes a Church Home

A dark smoky purple background with a faint silhouette of a church in mist. In front of the church, a single candle burns with a warm golden flame, casting soft light through the haze. White text at the top reads “When a Life Shapes a Church Home.” The image symbolises faith, remembrance, and quiet mourning.

Yesterday we lost a good friend. Our vicar. Our steady presence.

It happened on James’ fifteenth birthday. That detail sits heavily today. It marks the year I started attending our church and being under her wing. It marks the years she has shaped our family and my journey.

Friday, 15 May 2026

A Pentecost Study: Together



A Pentecost Study: Part 1 - Together

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place.” (Acts 2:1)


The Bible never imagines faith as a solitary project. From the first pages of Scripture, togetherness is woven into the fabric of God’s design. The Old Testament word most closely tied to this is ’echad—often translated “one,” but meaning a unity made of many parts. Israel was not a collection of individuals but a people bound together by covenant, memory, worship, and responsibility. Their life with God was always communal: festivals shared, prayers spoken together, burdens carried collectively, justice upheld by the whole community (Deut. 16:20; Lev. 19:18).

Tuesday, 12 May 2026

Survivor, Not Victim

A raised clenched fist breaks through a cracked burnt‑orange surface, symbolising strength and solidarity. Above it, the title “Survivor, Not Victim” appears in dark charcoal letters stamped inside a rectangular border, resembling a branded mark.

Being a victim and being a survivor sound similar, yet the difference determines how people treat you, hear you, and decide whether your story is valid. This difference has come up in several conversations recently, from ordination discussions, the current CoE safeguarding audit, and general chats. This has caused me to reflect on what I name, why I name it, and how I understand the harm I have survived.

Monday, 27 April 2026

Studying Theology: Earning My Graduate Diploma

A rolled parchment diploma tied with a red ribbon sits beside a black graduation cap with a gold tassel, resting on a stack of three hardcover books against a deep blue background. The title “Studying Theology: Earning My Graduate Diploma” appears clearly at the top in white text.

My blog started in 2010 as a place to reflect on my growth as a new Christian. That stayed the focus for several years, until James was born and Will started home education. I joined the blogger community and became a family, home education, single parent, and disability blogger. I found my stride and unique voice. When the Chritian posts no longer fit the identity of the blog, I returned the posts to drafts. I was not ashamed of them. My writing, voice, and life had changed.

Wednesday, 22 April 2026

Is Sunday or Monday the Start of the Week? How a Missed Meeting Exposed a Bigger Cultural Shift

Thumbnail image showing two calendar pages side by side labeled “Sunday” and “Monday,” each pinned with red and blue pushpins. A hand points to Monday. The headline above reads “Is Sunday or Monday the Start of the Week? How a Missed Meeting Exposed a Bigger Cultural Shift.” Small desk calendars, papers, and a coffee cup sit below on a cream background.


A simple question about the first day of the week caused me to miss a meeting on Monday. My colleague from a charity I work with asked on Sunday afternoon what day I was free next week. I replied Monday, meaning the 27th. She meant the 20th. For me, Sunday was the first day of the week. Therefore, next week is the week after. Hannah then told me that Monday is the first day of the week, so next week on a Sunday afternoon meant tomorrow onwards. If I had known, I could have said no. It was our anniversary. That moment, however, sent Hannah and I into a deeper reflection on calendars, culture, the quiet loss of rest in modern life, and Hannah feeling she had been lied to her entire life.

Monday, 13 April 2026

Shine a Light; Not Fight

Lit brass lamp with the words 'Shine a Light; Not Fight'

Today, I meet with my DDO (A Diocesan Director of Ordinands) and ADDO (Assistant Diocesan Director of Ordinands).

In my previous ordination process post I ended with a question. What do I do next, fight or accept? I wasn't sure. I am now.

Monday, 6 April 2026

Our Easter 2026


I’ve always preferred Easter to Christmas. Christmas has grown into something bigger, busier, and more frantic than it ever was when I was a child. Yes, I do realise how old I sound saying that. Easter still feels rooted. It remains focused on why we celebrate, and that grounding means even more to me as I move through the ordination process.

Saturday, 4 April 2026

Holy Saturday Reflection 2026: Hidden


At three o’clock on Good Friday, Jesus dies.

The world stops for a moment.

Heaven holds its breath.

And then… nothing.

No miracles.

No teachings.

No crowds.

No light breaking through.

No longer misunderstood.

No longer crying out in forsakenness.

Just stillness. Jesus is dead.

But Holy Saturday begins.

Friday, 3 April 2026

Good Friday Reflection #2 2026: Forsaken


There is a moment here where everything seems to collapse into darkness. The sky grows dim, the noise fades, and Jesus cries out with words that have echoed through centuries: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

It is one of the most unsettling sentences in Scripture. Yet it can be painfully familiar.

Good Friday Reflection #1 2026: Misunderstood



There are moments in life when the deepest pain doesn’t come from suffering, but from being misunderstood. 

Being misread happens so easily. 

Your motives are questioned, your character misjudged, your story flattened into something untrue.

It’s a very human ache. 

Thursday, 2 April 2026

Resource: The Seder Meal and Last Supper Evening



For several years at my church I have led a Maundy Thursday gathering and service for Passover and the Last Supper. I designed this layout. While elements are taken from the post‑70 AD Seder meal, many theologians believe that a proto‑Seder (an earlier form of the Passover meal with symbolic actions, blessings, and shared foods) was already practiced in Jesus’ time. In other words, although the formal Seder liturgy developed later, the patterns, symbols, and actions that shaped it were already present in Jewish life, and Jesus would have participated in them. What we do here is not an attempt to recreate the Last Supper exactly, but to engage with the closest living tradition that reflects the kind of meal Jesus shared with His disciples. For Christians, this becomes a meaningful way to enter the story — honouring Jewish roots, traditions, and our shared inheritance while recognising how Jesus fulfilled and transformed these symbols in the Last Supper and in Communion. Its wonderful and reflective evening. Please find the preparation guide here.

Resource: Preparation Guide for the Seder Meal and Last Supper


For several years at my church I have led a Maundy Thursday gathering and service for Passover and the Last Supper. I designed this layout. While elements are taken from the post‑70 AD Seder meal, many theologians believe that a proto‑Seder (an earlier form of the Passover meal with symbolic actions, blessings, and shared foods) was already practiced in Jesus’ time. In other words, although the formal Seder liturgy developed later, the patterns, symbols, and actions that shaped it were already present in Jewish life, and Jesus would have participated in them.

What we do here is not an attempt to recreate the Last Supper exactly, but to engage with the closest living tradition that reflects the kind of meal Jesus shared with His disciples. For Christians, this becomes a meaningful way to enter the story — honouring Jewish roots, traditions, and our shared inheritance while recognising how Jesus fulfilled and transformed these symbols in the Last Supper and in Communion. Its wonderful and reflective evening.