How to find God in the hospital car park1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from? 2 My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. 3 He will not let your foot slip –he who watches over you will not slumber; 4 indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. (Psalm 121:1-4)The queue had barely moved.I circled the hospital car park once, then again, following the slow procession of cars beneath the grey sky. Every space seemed to disappear just as I reached it. A driver edged forward; someone else signalled and slipped into a spot. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I had come to visit someone who was ill, and already I felt late, anxious and helpless.Around me, other people were carrying their own worries. A woman stared at her phone, perhaps waiting for news. A man gripped the wheel and leaned forward, searching the rows. A parent tried to soothe a restless child in the back seat. We were strangers, but for a few minutes we shared the same small world: the slow queue, the circling cars, the hope of finding somewhere to stop.“Lord, please help me find a space,” I prayed.It was an ordinary request, almost embarrassingly practical. Yet as I said the words, I remembered that God is not reserved for church pews, quiet mornings or moments when we know exactly what to say. He meets us in the places where we are, among the traffic, in the worry, beside the hospital entrance. We do not have to feel calm before we pray. Sometimes prayer begins with a sigh and a simple plea for help.As the cars crawled forward, I began to pray for the people around me. For the woman looking at her phone: may she receive kind news. For the parent: give them patience and strength. For the driver circling ahead: ease whatever burden they are carrying. I did not know their stories, but God did. My frustration did not vanish, and I still wanted a parking space. But my attention widened. The other drivers were no longer obstacles; they were people who, like me, might be frightened, tired or hoping for a little kindness.That small change mattered. Prayer did not make the illness disappear or tell me what would happen next. It helped me remember that I was not alone, and neither were the people in those cars. The hospital can hold fear and uncertainty, but it also holds remarkable tenderness: a hand held in a waiting room, a cup of tea brought to a bedside, a nurse who takes time to listen. God’s care often reaches us through such ordinary acts.Then, at last, a car pulled out. I eased into the space and switched off the engine. For a moment, I sat still. The space was small, but it was enough. I took a breath and asked God to go with me inside—to help me listen, to offer comfort where I could, and to trust him with what I could not change.We may not always find the answer we are seeking, or the words that will make everything better. But we can look for God in the middle of the waiting: in patience, in prayer for strangers, in courage for the next step, and in love shared with someone who is suffering.That day, I found a space in the hospital car park. And, as I sat there, I remembered to find a space for God in my heart too.5 The Lord watches over you –the Lord is your shade at your right hand; 6 the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. 7 The Lord will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life; 8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and for evermore. (Psalm 121:5-8) Brian Leathers October 2026
Where are you? “He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. Shortly before dawn he went out to them, walking on the lake.” (Mark 6:48) Have you ever felt like prayer was a struggle, like you were pushing against wind and waves? Sometimes it seems God is distant, and our prayers get heavy. At other times, prayer feels like steady work, row after row, day after day. The Christian life includes both experiences. In fact, Scripture shows us that faith can look like sailing and like rowing. Our story begins in Mark 6:48, where Jesus comes to the disciples while they are in a boat on the sea. The Bible says, “He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them.” In that moment, the disciples are not enjoying a peaceful cruise. They are working hard, exhausted, and unsure whether help will come. Yet Jesus is watching, and He is coming, though not always in the timeline or method they expected. This is how prayer often feels when we are rowing. We do not always sense God’s presence immediately. We keep praying anyway. We “strain at the oars,” bringing our concerns, our fears, and our needs to the Lord. We pray even when the waves are loud. Rowing prayer teaches endurance: it forms spiritual muscles. It reminds us that salvation is not earned by clever words, but received by faith. But Scripture also reveals another side of prayer, sailing. In Psalm 107, we read about those who go down to the sea and experience the wonder and danger of the ocean. The psalm describes ships tossed and threatened by storms, yet also speaks of sailors who cry out to the Lord in their trouble. Then, just as God’s mercy reaches them, the sea calms, and the storm gives way to safety. The psalm says the people “went up to the heavens” and “down to the depths,” but God ultimately brought them through. The message is clear: prayer is not only for moments of fear, it is also for moments when God lifts us from danger to deliverance. So where are you in your prayer life right now? Maybe you are rowing. If so, don’t confuse struggle with failure. Jesus saw the disciples straining. Your prayer life may be quiet, repetitive, and hard—but God is present. Keep bringing your prayer to Him with honesty. If your words are few, let your faith be strong. Maybe you are sailing. If your prayers have been answered, give thanks. Sail on in gratitude, not pride. Remember the God who calmed the storm. Praise is a continuation of faith, not a replacement for it. Prayer life is often both: moments of calm and moments of storm, seasons of strength and seasons of waiting. The sea and the boat are not outside God’s care. They are places where He teaches trust. Today, take your next step, whether that step is one more row or one more prayer of surrender. Jesus is watching. God hears. And just as Psalm 107:23–31 shows deliverance from the depths, the Lord can bring you through whatever waves you are facing. Mark 6:48 begins with Jesus coming near. Psalm 107:23–31 ends with the storm stilled and God praised. Some went out on the sea in ships; they were merchants on the mighty waters. 24 They saw the works of the Lord, his wonderful deeds in the deep. 25 For he spoke and stirred up a tempest that lifted high the waves. 26 They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths; in their peril their courage melted away. 27 They reeled and staggered like drunkards; they were at their wits’ end. 28 Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out of their distress. 29 He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. 30 They were glad when it grew calm, and he guided them to their desired haven. 31 Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind. (Psalm 107:23-31) Brian Leathers September 2026
I have good news to report. Jesus is Risen – I hope you expect the Vicar to tell you that. On top of that I want to let you know that because of the generosity of people of our Village we have been able to secure a new boiler which is being installed as I write. The increased efficiency of the boiler is considered sufficient that we can remove the unsightly grill in the west door and put back the ornate old door which has graced our church for over a century. I do want to thank those who gave so generously and to those who thought to put a letter out to those in the village we may not have seen for some time. We have also had money to spend on the churchyard extension which we have wanted to do but have been unable to because of the need to pay other bills first. Hopefully you have noticed the difference. We have now opened a fund so if you want to give towards maintaining this Churchyard, the money will be ringfenced and restricted only for this purpose. I also want to invite the people with pets to come to a special “animal friendly” service which will take place on the 1st of November at 10:45am
Finding your rhythm 28 ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.’ (Matthew 11:28-30) One of the curious things about going on holiday is how quickly our routines disappear. We eat at different times, go to bed later, forget what day it is and perhaps stop looking at the clock altogether. Then September arrives. Schools return, clubs and meetings begin again, and diaries suddenly start filling up. Before long, life feels as busy as ever. There is nothing wrong with routines. In fact, they help us make sense of life. But there is a difference between being busy and living well. The question isn't simply whether we have found our routine again, but whether we have found the right rhythm. As a new season begins, schools have fresh timetables, businesses set new priorities and leaders cast their vision for the months ahead. Most of us quietly do the same. We decide to be more organised, to exercise more regularly, to spend more time with family, or perhaps to stop saying "yes" to quite so many things. There is something refreshing about a fresh start. One of the rare new year resolutions that worked out for me was to read the Bible in a year using an app on the phone. I am usually barely awake, and now it has become a habit – the start of the rhythm of my day. But putting something new into the diary is not always the best thing. Experience tells us that a full diary is not always a fulfilled life. We can become experts at filling our days without stopping to ask whether we are filling them with the right things. Jesus lived one of the busiest lives imaginable. Crowds constantly surrounded Him. People wanted His help from morning until night. Yet He never appeared rushed. He had time to notice the person everyone else ignored. He had time to pray. He made time to rest. He never hurried simply because everyone else was hurrying. His secret was not better time management. It was that His life was shaped by His relationship with His Father. Before He served people, He spent time with God. Before making important decisions, He prayed. His rhythm was determined by obedience rather than pressure. That is why His invitation is so appealing: "Come to me... and I will give you rest." Jesus was not promising a life without work or responsibility. After all, He speaks about taking His yoke upon us. A yoke is something that enables work to be done. But His yoke fits properly. It is the right way to carry life's responsibilities, with Him beside us rather than struggling alone. Perhaps the greatest challenge for us is not that our lives are too busy, but that we often allow our busyness to set the pace. We rush from one commitment to another, hoping that life will somehow become calmer next week or next month. Usually it doesn't. Instead, God invites us to begin each day with Him and allow Him to shape its rhythm. A few moments in prayer, a passage of Scripture, a quiet reminder that we belong to Him, these small habits gradually change not just our schedules but our hearts. September often feels like a new beginning. Before we fill every spare space in our diary, perhaps we should first ask God to shape the pattern of our days. The busiest life is not necessarily the most fruitful life. The most fruitful life is one that walks with God. The Apostle Paul gives us a wonderful picture of that life: "Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit." (Galatians 5:25) Life is at its best when we discover God's rhythm. As we learn to keep in step with the Holy Spirit, we find that the deepest peace is not found in having an empty diary, but in walking each day with the One who walks beside us. Brian Leathers August 2026
