iChaplain

Photo by Callum Skelton on Unsplash There are moments in life when everything seems to slow down.  A waiting room late in the evening.  A quiet house after difficult news.  A long pause in a conversation where no one quite knows what to say.  These are the moments when the usual distractions fall away, and we are left with our thoughts.  And sometimes, almost without warning, a question surfaces:  If there is a God, where are you right now? Not always as a challenge. Not even always with anger.  Sometimes it feels more like a quiet reaching, honest and unguarded.  But this question does not only arise in private moments.  It can also come while watching the news, or listening to what is happening in the world. Stories of conflict, suffering and loss can leave us with the same quiet, unsettled thought: Where is God in all of this? For many people, the question of suffering does not begin as an abstract idea. It begins here, in ordinary life a...

Four Lives   Before telling these four stories, it’s important to say that they are not based on specific individuals. They are shaped by many individuals whose experiences and insights have echoed through church life.  They reflect the kinds of journeys people often take as they explore faith, lose their footing, return with courage, or quietly slip away. These stories are composites, drawn from shared experiences, questions, and struggles that many carry but rarely speak aloud. They remind us that every person has a story, and every story matters to God. On any given Sunday, people gather with different experiences, different journeys of faith, and different questions. Some feel at home in church. Some are exploring. Some are unsure. Some carry painful or complicated experiences of church life. Yet together they form a community that Christians describe as the body of Christ, a community that takes shape in ways that are both ordinary and full of God’s presence. There is the...

When Jesus teaches us to pray in the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9–13; Luke 11:1–4), there is a really difficult line in it: “forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” Wow. That is challenging. It’s one thing to ask God for forgiveness. Most of us know what it is to get things wrong. We all have regrets, mistakes, moments we wish we could redo. Asking for forgiveness can feel natural, even necessary. But then Jesus links it to something much harder. That same forgiveness must flow through us to others. Suddenly, this prayer becomes more than comforting words. It becomes a mirror. The Measure We Use Jesus isn’t suggesting forgiveness as an optional extra for especially kind people. He puts it right at the centre of prayer. Forgive us as we forgive. In other words, the way we deal with others becomes part of our relationship with God. That’s uncomfortable. Because if we’re honest, forgiveness can feel impossible. Some wounds go deep. Some words linger. Some acti...

T here are some words that carry a lot of emotional weight. Sin is one of them. For many people it comes with a lifetime of baggage: shame, fear, memories of being told off, or the sense that God is standing over us with a clipboard. It is no wonder people flinch when they hear it. But the heart of the Gospel is not about God pointing out what is wrong with us. It is about God wanting us back. Wherever you find yourself today, whether faith feels familiar or distant, this reflection is for you. It is for anyone who has ever wondered what God is really like, or what it might mean to turn toward Him again. When Sin Looks Less Like Shame and More Like Healing When we speak about sin, we are not talking about a list of failures. At its heart, sin is simply the name we give to the moments when we drift from the life God invites us into. It is the distance that opens up between who we are right now and the person we were created to become. Most of us recognise that distance. We feel it in t...

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” — John 14:27 In a world that rarely slows down, where anxiety lingers and uncertainty feels constant, the promise of peace can feel distant. Yet in John 14:27, Jesus offers something profoundly different: not just peace, but his peace. This is not a fleeting feeling. It is a gift, deep, steady, and enduring. An Inspiration from Pentecost Recently, I attended a Pentecost celebration at Durham Cathedral, where people came together to celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit and God’s work in the world today. The speaker was Sam Ward from The Message Trust, and part of his message centred on the peace of Christ, which is something that stayed with me. This blog post is, in part, a reflection inspired by that message. When Peace Becomes Personal A few years ago, I went through a particularly difficult time. My dad was battling cancer. He had undergon...

What happens when God meets ordinary people, and they realise they are no longer alone? What happened at Pentecost did not just make noise, it changed people. That is really the heart of it. Because Pentecost is not just about wind or fire. It is about ordinary people being transformed when the Holy Spirit came upon them (Acts 2). And once you begin to see it that way, it becomes a lot more than a church word we politely nod along to. What is Pentecost Pentecost is celebrated 50 days after Easter and marks a turning point in the Christian story. Jesus’ followers were gathered together when suddenly: A sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven… They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire… All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit. (Acts 2:1–4) This was the moment they were filled with the Holy Spirit, and everything changed. Who is the Holy Spirit In a world of “good vibes” and “the force,” it is easy to think of the Holy Spirit as something vague or impersonal. In ...

Most of us do not wake up expecting miracles. We do not expect seas to part or storms to fall silent at a word. For many of us, life feels ordinary, steady, sometimes heavy, often routine. So when we read about “signs and wonders” in the Bible, they can feel far away, almost like they belong to a different world. And yet, quietly, many of us still find ourselves asking: “God, are you still at work like that today.” There is a story often told about John Wimber, the founder of the Vineyard movement. He had been encouraging people to pray for healing, to step out and simply do what we see Jesus doing. At one gathering, someone came forward for prayer. Wimber prayed. And nothing seemed to happen. Afterwards, someone asked him, “Why.” He did not try to explain it or tidy it up. He simply acknowledged, with honesty and humility, that he did not know, and that God did. And then he carried on and prayed for the next person. That, in many ways, captures something important. We are called to pr...