“Dad! – my daughter instantly whatsapped – You’re such a stalker!” 😂😂😂 In fact, I was only asking her during the recent extreme heatwave whether the supermarket she was visiting had air-conditioning. However, this particular supermarket was just down the road from Paris while I was at home 500 miles away in Aughton. In fact, I was following her on google maps, using the location-sharing facility, I hasten to add with her permission. And for the next six weeks I was

A key epiphany. I can’t recall the precise date in 1973 but I do remember its precise location: West Derby Road in Tuebrook, just by the junction with Lisburn Lane. Where was my life going? An essay in this week’s New York Times caught my eye. In fact, the heading was much better than the article itself: The Art of Choosing What to Do With Your Life. It comes at an apt time this week when so many young people are making key decisions about their future, often under press

“Phew, what a scorcher!” Well, it looks like another sweltering weekend ahead, a bit more than many of us can cope with. According to the World Health Organisation, “heatwaves are among the most dangerous of natural hazards, but rarely receive adequate attention.” Certainly in many countries closer to the equator such heat determines the daily routine. Think siesta. There’s a fascinating footnote, not always acknowledged, in Luke’s account of the remarkable ministry of the

“Father!” So I begin my prayers each morning, taking Jesus at his word to use this word to address the creator and upholder of this awesome universe. I’ve been saying the Lord’s prayer for nearly all of my life, certainly since saying it every day during my school years. Things were different then. And then, virtually at every church service since. It’s become part of my life. Sadly its very familiarity has cushioned the shock of what we are actually doing, addressing God