Lent 2025: My Faith Soundtrack

I’ve written about it before on this blog: music has always been part of my life. Long before my faith was fully formed, songs were shaping my soul, carrying messages of truth even when I didn’t recognize them. Today, singing in my car on my way back from choir, I thought again of the impact of music. Looking back, I can see how different pieces of music have accompanied me on my journey -through childhood, doubt, growth, and deepening trust in God. This is the soundtrack of my faith – no limits, just songs that have influenced and shaped my journey.

Choral Beginnings: Hymns and Anthems

I grew up singing in a church choir, and my earliest musical memories are choral ones. The hymns and anthems I sang then still hold a special place in my heart. One hymn that has always stood out to me is Thou Didst Leave Thy Throne. Despite its traditional language, its simple chorus – “Oh come to my heart, Lord Jesus, there is room in my heart for Thee” – spoke to me even as a child. As a teenager, my faith wavered, but I still loved those words.

Another hymn I return to often is Lord, When I Turn My Back on You. It’s not widely known, but it has been a prayer for me in difficult times: “Lord, when I turn my back on You, the fears and darkness grow. I need You, oh, I need You, Lord, to show me where to go.” Sometimes, music can articulate what we struggle to put into words.

Certain anthems bring back powerful memories. Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem (I believe by Maunder) was a joyful summer sing with fellow choristers – I can still picture us trying not to bob up and down with the rhythm! Stainer’s Crucifixion is another piece that shaped me, long before I fully understood its depth. The Appeal of the Crucified is still one of the most moving pieces of music I know; beyond any words, its dynamics, phrasing, and harmonies capture the weight of Good Friday.

And then there’s the Vesper Hymn. I don’t even know who composed the version we used to sing, but it’s a piece I have carried with me. A sung prayer I return to, time and time again.

Contemporary Christian Music: New Sounds, Familiar Truths

As my faith grew, I discovered more contemporary Christian music. One songwriter who has resonated with me is Matthew West. His song Imperfections speaks of how we list our failures, but God still chooses to use us, flaws and all.

Certain worship songs have also been pivotal. Reckless Love was a lifeline at one point in my journey; I listened to it daily, trying to absorb the truth that God pursues us with relentless love. Nothing I Hold Onto reminds me of a time of breakthrough, a moment of realizing just how close God was (and is) and how I can trust Him completely. More recently, Gratitude by Brandon Lake has been on repeat. It captures a truth I hold dear: that no words or actions can fully express my gratitude to God, so all I can do is praise.

Another song that speaks to me is Vagabonds by Stuart Townend. Its invitation – one of radical welcome – resonates deeply: everyone is welcome, across all divides, because God’s mercy draws us near.

Secular Songs with Sacred Meaning

Some songs, though not explicitly Christian, have carried deep spiritual significance for me. Cliff Richard’s Reunion of the Heart feels like it tells my story; the wandering, the calling, the returning. And You’ll Be in My Heart from Tarzan beautifully reflects the constancy and unconditional love of God. Whether Phil Collins intended it or not, it speaks of divine love that never lets go.

The Power of Music in Faith

Music is more than just melody and lyrics – it’s a way God speaks to me. Sometimes, it’s been a way back when I’ve strayed. Other times, it has strengthened my faith when words alone weren’t enough. These songs, whether ancient hymns or contemporary worship, explicitly Christian or not, are part of my spiritual journey.

I’d love to hear from others – what songs have shaped your faith? What pieces of music do you return to again and again? The soundtrack of faith is deeply personal, but it’s also something we can share.

Lent 2025: What’s in your hand?

Today, I read a passage from Exodus that got me thinking about how God equips us for the tasks He sets before us.

The story begins with the Israelites enslaved in Egypt. A baby boy, Moses, is placed in a basket on the Nile and found by Pharaoh’s daughter. He grows up in the palace but, as an adult, witnesses an Egyptian beating an Israelite. In a fit of anger, he kills the Egyptian and flees into the desert, living in exile, marrying, and raising a family.

One day, while tending sheep, Moses encounters a bush that is on fire but not burning up. From the flames, God speaks to him, instructing him to remove his shoes because he is standing on holy ground. Then comes the command: Moses is to return to Egypt and free the Israelites. Unsurprisingly, Moses hesitates. I think most of us would! After all, he had run away for a reason. Facing Pharaoh would be daunting, and Moses knew his own limitations.

But God asks him a simple question: “What is that in your hand?”

Moses is holding his shepherd’s staff, just a simple tool for guiding sheep. Yet, in God’s hands, it becomes a powerful instrument, turning into a snake and back again. It is with this same staff that Moses will perform miracles, confront Pharaoh, and lead the Israelites out of Egypt.

Sometimes, we feel called to something beyond our abilities – something too big, too difficult, too far outside our comfort zone. We hesitate, just as Moses did. But God never sends us alone. He asks us to look at what we already have, however ordinary it may seem, and trust Him to use it in extraordinary ways.

So next time you feel overwhelmed by a task or uncertain about your abilities, pause and ask yourself: What’s in my hand? You might just find that God has already given you exactly what you need.

Lent 2025: Pressing on – leaving the past behind

The mind is an interesting thing. When I woke up this morning, I was reminded of something that happened when I was a child. There was no obvious trigger, the event itself wasn’t particularly momentous, but still my brain decided to replay it for me. If it had been a happy memory, that would have been a great way to start the day. But no, my mind decided to remind me of something I did wrong over 20 years ago, and it made my insides squirm with shame.

My mind is like that. I do have plenty of happy memories, but I also hold on to those things I’ve done wrong. I won’t post them all here (that wouldn’t help anyone), but one I remember clearly: my mum had bought tea cakes as a treat for herself. I offered to toast them for her while she was on the phone. We had a grill to toast them (rather than a toaster), and I did everything as I would with bread. Then I took my eye off them for a second. With bread, that’s fine. Grilling bread takes a few minutes to become toast, and it’s fairly forgiving before it becomes too toasted to eat. Tea cakes, however, are sweet buns with dried fruit. They are not so forgiving. There were flickering lights in the grill, and I pulled the pan out to find the tea cakes smouldering.

I did not burn the house down (thankful for small mercies), but those tea cakes were not consumable! Why does that stick in my mind? Maybe because I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted. Maybe because I felt I let my mum down by ruining her treat. If I asked my mum about it now, she probably wouldn’t even remember it. See? Not significant, and yet it still rattles around in my brain, dredging up old emotions.

That’s a slightly flippant example for the sake of this blog (although the squirmy insides are very real!). There are plenty more – times I acted without thinking, people I let down, sharp words and bad behaviours. I won’t say they all live in my mind, but I do seem to remember a lot of them, and those squirmy insides, where guilt and shame at my actions (or inactions) rise to the surface, are sometimes overwhelming. It can be so easy to let those occasions eat away at me.

In the Bible, there are a few key verses that link to this. One of my favourites (and a verse with particular significance to me) is Philippians 3:13-14: Forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on towards the goal. This needs careful balancing; we can’t just forget everything from the past. For one, our experiences shape us. We are formed as much by our mistakes as by our successes. For another, if we just forget, we do a disservice to the other people involved. There is something to be said for seeking forgiveness when we have behaved badly or made a mistake that has affected another. However, we cannot move forward if we are constantly living in the past, regretting our actions or feeling guilty over mistakes. To press forward into the future God has for us, we sometimes need to take the advice of a surprisingly wise warthog and ‘leave our behind in the past’!

Sometimes, this can feel impossible. Sometimes, mistakes can feel so huge that we can’t come back from them. I’ve had a couple of those in my time. Even now, if I’m not careful, those memories threaten to drag me back to a state of mind where I mentally beat myself up. But we don’t have to do it alone. Yes, we make mistakes and behave badly. But God doesn’t hold them against us. Lamentations 3:22-23 says: Because of God’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Maybe you are like me, holding your past against yourself. But God isn’t like that. His grace means He forgives us and gives us a fresh start. Each day is a chance to start over, to do better.

Easier said than done, I know. I didn’t just get over my whoppers in a day. Or even a week! But I did work through the feelings, I have made amends where I could, and I have learnt from them. One time in my life, I had a plan. It was an excellent plan with a secure future, and I had my heart and mind set on it. Advice from people around suggested maybe I wasn’t quite ready, maybe this was not the right path, but I ignored them, so sure of myself.

I was wrong, and I watched the future I had planned crumble in front of me. It took me a year to let go of the ruins. But I did, and I learnt a few things. In that period, I learnt to believe in myself, even love myself (in a healthy way, not an arrogant way). I also learnt to enjoy the journey, to make the most out of every experience. It’s not an experience I am eager to repeat, and yet, with God’s help, it has shaped me positively.

The mind is an interesting thing. I’m not sure why it decided to remind me about burnt tea cakes this morning! But if you are dwelling on a mistake, if something in your past is holding you back, if yesterday was an awful day and you don’t know how to face tomorrow, remember: every day is a chance to try again. God hasn’t turned His face away. He is ready to help you move forward, one step at a time.

Lent 2025: Pray as you can, not as you can’t

Prayer is one of those things that can feel both essential and elusive. Despite being a cornerstone of the Christian faith, I have felt like teaching on it has usually been a little vague. I know prayer is important, but sometimes I can’t help but doubt myself. Am I doing it right? What if I use the wrong words? What if I forget to pray for something important? What if someone else hears and judges how I pray? And just like that, I’ve made prayer about me – my performance, my ability – rather than what it’s really meant to be: an honest conversation with God.

I’ve been reading Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools, and right from chapter one, it hit me with something I needed to hear: pray as you can, not as you can’t. If you struggle to pray at home, pray while you’re walking or running errands. If you can’t focus enough to pray out loud, write your prayers in a journal. If you don’t have the faith or hope to pray confidently, tell God about your doubts instead. If you’re too angry or confused to speak words of adoration, don’t force it! Bring your complaints, your frustration, your questions. Just show up, honestly, and keep showing up. That’s the non-negotiable part of prayer.

What a relief!

Prayer isn’t about getting the words right. It’s not about saying the most profound or poetic phrases. It’s not about being good at it. Prayer is about relationship. And that relationship is rooted in something incredibly freeing; the knowledge that the One we are praying to loves us, is for us, and delights in hearing from us.

God isn’t judging our words or grading our prayers. He just wants us to show up. To be real. To talk to Him as we are, where we are, however we can. And as we do, somewhere along the way, we discover the most important thing: the love the Father has for us.

That’s the foundation of prayer. Not duty, not desperation, not determination. Love. And that changes everything.

Lent 2025: The most common command

If you had to guess the most common command in the Bible, what would you say? Love your neighbor? Pray? Actually, it’s ‘Do not be afraid!’ Throughout the Bible, that command is given over 200 times (people disagree on the exact number, and I haven’t counted them all). That seems like a pretty significant command to me. It also seems like an impossible one if we take it at face value.

I wonder what you are afraid of? Common fears include spiders, heights, and the dark. Many people also fear failure, being alone, or being rejected. Fear can be all-consuming, affecting our decisions, our relationships, and even our faith. It can lead to running away, freezing, screaming, or some other unconscious and irrational reaction.

So, a command to ‘not be afraid’ feels as impossible as being told to stop breathing. After all, fear is an instinct, not a choice. In fact, fear is healthy because it keeps us safe. So maybe what the command really means is, ‘Don’t let fear rule your mind.’ It’s often combined with a message of reassurance from God, reminding us that we are not alone.

Today, I was reflecting on a verse from Isaiah 41: ‘So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.’

There is plenty in the world to be afraid of. Even the future can be a daunting prospect. The context of this verse is a prophecy for the future, and God is reassuring the listener that they won’t be left to face it alone. That applies to us. When we look around the world and see terrifying events, when our futures are uncertain, we can rely on God to be there for us now and in His promises for a future with Him.

With that in mind, I spent some time reflecting on what I’m afraid of right now – there are a couple of big things! – and asking God for help to face them. Fear, while sometimes a healthy response, can also be a crippling emotion. By sharing my fears with God, I genuinely felt a sense of peace about facing them. The fear didn’t go away, but it did shrink internally and no longer felt like this huge obstacle. God doesn’t just tell us to stop being afraid, He gives us a reason not to be. His presence, His strength, and His promises are the antidote to fear.

If fear is weighing you down today, why not take a moment to tell God about it? You don’t have to carry it alone. He promises to hold you steady.

Lent 2025: The Importance of the One

This week has been challenging – if you’ve read my recent posts, you’ll know that. But I don’t apologise for that. If David could write psalms about despair, abandonment, and loneliness, then I think it’s okay for me to write about exhaustion and overwhelm. God created us with emotions, and being honest with Him about how we feel is important. But I also knew I didn’t want to stay in that place.

Today, as I reflected on what to write, I realised I needed to remind myself that not everything had been bad. The difficult moments stood out, but there were also things to be thankful for (go read Wednesday’s post on gratitude). And in the middle of that reflection, I was reminded of a quote from a book I read recently. A friend of mine lent me The Christian Priest Today by Michael Ramsay, and one sentence struck a chord with me:

‘The glory of Christianity is its claim that small things really matter and that the small company, the very few, the one man, the one woman, the one child are of infinite worth to God.’

Reading this was a reminder I needed. So much of what I do is for the few – the church I serve is small, my team at work is small, and I try to make time for individuals in need. In a world that often measures success in numbers, even within the church, these words from a former Archbishop of Canterbury reassured me that this work still matters.

Looking back over this week, I didn’t change the world (not a regular occurrence, I admit). But I know I made time for individuals. I know I offered a listening ear, a hug, or just a smile to someone each day. And those are still worthwhile things. Jesus heard a blind beggar on the side of the road call out to him and stopped and made time to listen. (Of course, Jesus also gave him his sight back, a level of impact I didn’t quite achieve this week!) He saw a passing funeral procession of a widow burying her son and raised the son from the dead, even though he had never met this widow from Nairn. He stopped his teaching when a paralysed man was dropped through the ceiling. When a Syrophoenician woman followed, calling for help, he stopped and talked to her. Time and again, Jesus shows his care for ‘the one.’

And another way to look at that: I am the individual, the one who is of infinite worth to God. And so are you. So if you find you’ve had a tough week, don’t worry. You are still of infinite worth to God.

Lent 2025: When there’s nothing left to give

Some weeks leave us feeling empty. This has been one of those weeks.

The kind where more is asked of you when you’re already giving your best. The kind where tension lingers in the air, where people are frustrated, where morale is low. The kind where you listen, support, and carry the weight of others, but by the end of it all, you have nothing left to give.

I know I’m not the only one who feels this way sometimes.

There are plenty of verses in the bible that talk about rest and restoration. Isaiah 40.29 talks about God strengthening the weary. Matthew 11.28 talks about coming to God with burdens and finding rest. But sometimes it doesn’t matter how many bible verses we memorise or how many of these truths we know. The reality is that some weeks leave us feeling completely spent.

Maybe that’s why I need the reminder: I was never meant to carry it all alone.

God doesn’t expect me to be endlessly strong. He doesn’t ask me to fix everything. He simply asks me to lean on Him—to trust that He is enough, even when I feel like I am not.

So tonight, I’m setting it down. The frustrations, the exhaustion, the weight of trying to hold things together. God is holding me. That is enough.

If you’re feeling drained too, maybe this prayer is for you as well:

“Lord, you see the weight I’m carrying. You know the exhaustion I feel. Hold me in this moment. Remind me that I don’t have to do this alone. Strengthen me, and help me to trust that You are enough. Amen.”

Lent 2025: Overwhelmed

“From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:2

Some days, the weight of other people’s needs presses in from every side. A listening ear, a word of advice, a problem to solve; so many voices, so many expectations. And while it’s a privilege to be someone others turn to, it can also be exhausting.

Tonight, I feel that exhaustion. Not in a dramatic, world-ending way, but in the slow, steady drain of always being on. My heart is full for those who need help, yet weary from constantly pouring out.

That’s why this verse caught my attention today. When my heart is overwhelmed, God doesn’t ask me to carry it all. Instead, He invites me to call out to Him, to be led to a place of refuge, to the rock that is higher than I am.

I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to hold everything together. I just have to lift my eyes and let Him hold me for a while.

So tonight, that’s my prayer:
“Lord, when my heart is weary, lead me back to You. Be my refuge, my strength, my rock. Amen.”

Lent 2025: The Perspective of Gratitude

Some days, it’s easy to be grateful. The weather is beautiful. You manage to do all the jobs you need to get done. You spend time with people you love. You do activities that fill you with life. Those kinds of days, when everything seems to go right. I’m sure you know the kind of days I mean.

Then there are the more difficult days. Conversations are challenging. Work is frustrating. You end the day too drained to do much more than collapse in a heap. Those might also be the days when the toilet breaks and the milk has gone off. I’m sure we’ve all had those kinds of days too. And sometimes, we get a run of them that can be really draining, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I mentioned before that this Lent, I’ve been trying to fit in two reflective walks each week – one on Sunday and one midweek (usually Wednesday). I have a passage and a question, and I spend some time pondering and listening to my nudges from God. It’s a practice I’ve enjoyed. Today, the passage was James 1:17:

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

The question to provoke my thoughts was: Can I name five things I see or experience that feel like gifts from God?

When I finally sat down in the evening and read that passage and question, I couldn’t help but laugh. This morning, a queue of traffic meant I couldn’t move my car from its parking spot for a good five minutes, making me later to work than I wanted to be (though still on time). The traffic on the main roads was awful due to “overrunning roadworks,” meaning my boss wasn’t in first thing for our planning session. The internet was intermittent, impacting the jobs I was trying to get on with. By the afternoon, it dropped out completely, so no sending emails, no designing posters, no researching funders. Basically, it felt like everything was conspiring against us being able to do our jobs, and that was more than a little frustrating.

So when I read that passage and question, it felt a little like a joke. Some days, when things go well, gratitude is easy. Prayers of thanks – for situations, for friends, for opportunities – come naturally. But days like today?!

But I tried. While acknowledging that today had not been the easiest, I looked for things to be grateful for.

When I finished work, I heard birdsong, a sure sign of spring. I wish I could name each one, but even without that knowledge, there’s something beautiful about their song. At lunchtime, colleagues invited me to sit with them instead of eating on my own. Because the internet was down, I had a great conversation in the office about books and Harry Potter World over a cuppa. A friend brought me two bags of jelly babies (for my pastoral jelly baby tin). And on my gentle stroll this evening, the sunset was beautiful, a sky of calm pastel colours that brought a sense of peace after a rather unproductive and frustrating day.

There, that’s five things I am grateful for today. And actually, although the frustrations loom large, finding things to be grateful for wasn’t as hard as I had first thought when I read that passage and question. Because God does not change.

I suppose that’s the thing about gratitude; it doesn’t erase the hard moments, but it gives them perspective. Today wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t without gifts either. And maybe that’s what James was getting at: every good thing, however small, is still a gift from the unchanging God, steady even when life feels anything but.

Maybe you’ve had a day like mine—full of small frustrations, unexpected disruptions, or just a lingering sense of weariness. If so, I wonder… what five gifts might you find, even in the middle of it all?

Lent 2025: Our God’s kinda big, isn’t he?

Some days just feel messy. Clashes, mistakes, misunderstandings… it all piles up. By the time the day ends, I find myself holding onto frustration, regret, and sometimes hurt. Those are the moments when forgiveness – both giving and receiving – feels hard.

Today, someone said something simple yet profound that captures my imagination:
“Our God’s kinda big, isn’t He? And He’s pretty good at loving us.”

It came up in a conversation about forgiveness. In the Bible, Peter asks Jesus how many times we should forgive. Seven times? That feels generous. But Jesus replies, “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times” (or in some translations, seventy times seven).

That’s an exhausting amount of forgiveness! But maybe that’s the point. Jesus isn’t giving Peter a number to count up to, He’s telling him to stop counting altogether. God doesn’t keep score when He forgives us, so why do we struggle to do the same for others?

I love that God’s forgiveness is limitless, but when it comes to me forgiving, there tend to be conditions. I struggle the most when I feel someone should be sorry but isn’t. I don’t need justice or revenge, but sometimes I do long for remorse, for an apology that never comes. God’s forgiveness flows freely. Mine sometimes hesitates, waiting for an apology that never comes.

And yet, if forgiveness is part of God’s big love for me, then maybe I can take small steps toward extending it too.

That doesn’t mean excusing hurt or pretending things didn’t happen. (Forgiving and staying are two different things, but that’s a thought for another time.) But it does mean choosing not to carry the weight of resentment. It means trusting that God, who is big and pretty good at loving us, will help me try again tomorrow.