…the highest philosophy for persons thus afflicted is to understand themselves and their tendencies, to know that these fits of gloom and depression are just as much a form of disease as a fever or a toothache,
‘My dear sir, there are times when I know I am possessed of the Devil, and then I never let myself speak!’
Our Beloved in leaving us does not leave us desolate but leaves reminders of his presence. Perhaps not in an enchanted place but in ordinary things
surrounded by the dead and in fear of being killed themselves that they heard the news of the hope that was born in a cave in Bethlehem and escaped from a tomb in Jerusalem.
To be able to provide a home for another is a precious gift, to know that our Beloved provides a home for us makes all our challenges, whether they involve squatting bishops or not, melt away.
TO have suffered much is like knowing many languages. You have learnt to understand all, and to make yourself intelligible to all.
The sick-bed or the prison is as welcome as the harvest-field or the battlefield, when once your soul has come to value as the end of life the privilege of seeking and of finding Him.
Our Beloved looks upon us in the midst of all the mess of our sins and, not ‘blinching’ at all, demonstrates his love by stretching out His arms to embrace the whole world on the tree of Calvary.
This was not the only time since I have been in Holy Orders I have been threatened with a fire arm but it is the one when I prayed the deepest and hardest…
Their weak voices spoke gospels. The hands they seemed to clasp were really clasping theirs.
Suffolk Vicar 