Faith
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Faithful in exile
Grief, grace, and quiet endurance in the margins of scripture and life Reflection on the Sunday readings. Jerusalem sits empty. The psalmist weeps by foreign waters. Timothy is urged to rekindle a gift that feels fragile. The apostles beg for more faith, and Jesus answers with a story about a servant doing what is asked,… Continue reading
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Jesus Loves Me—And That Changes Everything
A reflection from an Irish Anglican autistic perspective on love, memory, and belonging “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” We sang it every week in Sunday School, small voices piping through the church hall, surrounded by crayons, juice cartons, and the gentle chaos of kindergarten faith. I don’t remember… Continue reading
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Thirst, Wisdom, Presence
Reflections on longing, exile, and the liturgy of care inspired by the texts of Psalm 42, Wisdom 10:15–11:10, and Mark 12:18–27 There are days when the soul feels like a bog in winter—still, sodden, waiting. Psalm 42 speaks into that ache: “Why are you cast down, O my soul?” It doesn’t rush to fix the… Continue reading
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Called and Consecrated
Re-reading St Paul and Honouring Women’s Ministry in the Anglican Tradition In the hush of a Friday afternoon, with the Psalms still resonating from morning prayer and the Irish light softening the edges of the day, I return to St Paul’s words in 1 Timothy 2:11–12: “Let a woman learn in silence with full submission.… Continue reading
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Snip. Clear. Breathe.
Clearing brambles with garden shears becomes a focused act of care—restoring the path, honoring presence, and making space. Continue reading
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Mercy, not triumph
A quiet reflection on one pain-free night, naming grace in its fleetingness and giving thanks for small mercies. Continue reading
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Scattered. Rooted. Seen.
Autistic noticing turns a roadside walk into quiet reflection—acorns, oak, and grace revealed in the rhythm of pausing. Continue reading
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Forget, Feel, Forgive
The gentle rhythm of neurodivergent self-care. A second night, and the twinge in my left side is back. Familiar now. Not dramatic, not alarming—just a quiet ache that reminds me I forgot the preventative paracetamol. Again. It’s strange how the body keeps score, even when the mind is busy with liturgies, logistics, and late-night thoughts.… Continue reading
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Pain, Paracetamol, and the Puzzle of Self-Care
It’s 5am and my side aches again—echoes of a fall from a couple of weekends ago. I’ve taken paracetamol, the only painkiller I’m allowed on dialysis. It’s a quiet kind of surrender, not dramatic, just necessary. But I’m terrible at taking painkillers. Not because I forget, but because I hesitate. I second-guess whether the pain… Continue reading
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Stewardship, Trust, and the Threshold of Mercy
The parable urges attentive stewardship, recognizing overlooked suffering, and trusting in love’s transformative power through compassion and action. Continue reading
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