Thirty Years: A Health Journey

I silently celebrated thirty years since I was first diagnosed with a condition on Saturday.

It’s a strange milestone. It’s not a birthday or anniversary, but a reminder of a moment that changed my life. I was thirteen when a doctor told me I had Polymyositis, an autoimmune condition that didn’t fit my age, body, or story. Knowing what we know now, I can see why they said it, it partially explained why my muscles were weakening, I walked differently, and struggled. They told me I might not live past sixteen. At thirteen, I knew what that meant, but I didn’t understand it — not the way I do now.

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.

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.