A very happy New Year to you all. As the year opens before us, with all its promise and uncertainty, I find myself drawn back to the quiet wisdom of the psalmist: “Be still, and know that I am God.” These are unhurried words. They invite us to slow our pace, to breathe more deeply, and to notice the presence that so often waits beneath the surface of our days.

At the turning of a year there can be a subtle pressure to move quickly—to plan, to resolve, to improve. Yet the Christian tradition, and especially the Celtic saints who learned faith amid rugged landscapes and patient silence, points us in another direction. They recognised that holiness often begins with stopping. Stillness, for them, carried depth rather than lack: a posture of attentiveness in which God could be met, and the heart gently gathered.

Without spaces of quiet, our lives can become crowded with activity while our souls remain unattended. Silence is where we allow God to love us as we truly are, rather than as we appear to others or strive to become. It is in silence that we discover our limits, our longings, and the steady faithfulness of God who meets us there.

St Oswald’s Church has long offered that kind of space. Rooted in this valley and shaped by weather, prayer, and time, it has served generations as a place where people come simply to rest before God. Over the past year alone, around 1,900 written prayer requests were entrusted to this church. Each one holds a life, a hope, a grief, or a thanksgiving quietly placed into God’s care. Together they speak of trust, and of a deep human longing to bring what feels heavy into a place of shelter.

As we step into this new year together, my hope is that St Oswald’s will continue to be a place where you feel free to pause. There is no requirement for polished words or settled certainty. You may arrive exactly as you are. Sit for a while. Listen. Allow the stillness to do its gentle work, trusting that God is already present and already attentive.

May this be a year in which we rediscover the quiet grace of being still, and within that stillness come to know again that we are known, held, and deeply loved.

With every blessing for the year ahead,

Lawrence