Mercy is one of the gentlest words in the gospel, yet it carries astonishing strength. When Jesus sits on the hillside and says, “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy”, he isn’t offering a slogan for kind people, he’s revealing the heartbeat of the kingdom. Mercy isn’t weakness, nor is it naïve indulgence. It’s love that chooses compassion over retaliation, understanding over judgement, restoration over revenge.
To be merciful is to look at another person and see more than their worst moment. It’s to recognise our shared frailty, our shared need. I can’t offer mercy unless I know, deep down, that I stand in need of it myself. The older I get, the more aware I become of my own blind spots, my own impatience, my own quiet failures. That awareness softens me. It reminds me that every harsh word I could speak is a word I hope God won’t speak over me.
Jesus embodies this beatitude. He meets the guilty and doesn’t excuse the harm, yet he refuses to crush the person. He sees the sinner clearly, and still chooses compassion. On the cross, mercy and justice meet; wrongdoing is taken seriously, yet forgiveness flows freely. That same mercy has found its way to me, not because I’ve earned it, but because God delights to give it.
There’s a promise here too. “They will be shown mercy.” This isn’t a transaction, as though God only forgives the already generous. It’s more like a doorway. When I practise mercy, I step into the current of God’s own character. I begin to live in the atmosphere of grace. A merciful heart is open, receptive, able to receive what it also gives.
In a world quick to shame and slow to listen, mercy becomes quietly revolutionary. It disarms anger. It heals families. It reshapes communities. And sometimes, it begins in the smallest places, a withheld criticism, a patient response, a second chance offered without fanfare.
To walk in mercy is to walk close to the heart of God. And in that nearness, I find I’m not diminished, but made whole.
Holiness isn’t a word we use lightly. It can sound austere, distant, almost unapproachable. Yet when Peter writes, “Be holy, because I am holy,” he isn’t placing a cold demand upon weary shoulders; he’s echoing the ancient heartbeat of God, drawing us into something beautiful and life-giving.
Peter is quoting from Leviticus, reminding scattered believers that the God who called Israel still calls his people to reflect his character. Holiness begins not with us, but with God. It’s rooted in who he is, not in what we achieve. God is wholly good, utterly faithful, fiercely compassionate, and unwaveringly just. His holiness isn’t sterile separation, it’s blazing purity wrapped in covenant love.
When we hear “be holy”, we might instinctively think of moral perfection, of never putting a foot wrong. But Peter has just urged his readers to set their hope fully on the grace to be brought to them when Jesus Christ is revealed. Holiness, then, grows in the soil of grace. It’s the shape a redeemed life takes. It’s what happens when forgiven people start to resemble the One who forgave them.
To be holy is to belong. In scripture, what is holy is set apart for God’s purposes. We aren’t withdrawn from the world, but we are no longer defined by its distortions. Our values shift. Our loves are reordered. We find ourselves resisting old patterns, not from fear, but because they no longer fit who we are becoming.
There’s tenderness here. The command sits within the language of family: as obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. Holiness is relational. It’s about reflecting our Father’s likeness. Just as children often carry the expressions and gestures of their parents, so we’re invited to carry God’s character into ordinary life, in our speech, our choices, our hidden thoughts.
And we don’t walk this road alone. The Spirit quietly works within us, shaping instincts, convicting gently, strengthening resolve. Holiness is less about striving to impress God, and more about surrendering to the God who already calls us his own.
“Be holy, because I am holy.” It’s not a threat, it’s an invitation. An invitation to live differently, deeply, distinctly, because we belong to the Holy One, and his life is at work in us.
Just Another Missing Person (Gillian McAllister) isn’t ‘just’ a mystery about another missing person. There are several narrators, with many twists and turns right up to the last page. An enjoyable read that will keep you guessing.
Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex (Mary Roach) is an enlightening and humorous romp through a taboo subject, be prepared for grimaces and shocks along the way.
The Unseen (Roy Jacobsen) is a universal story about identity, resilience, and the tension between place and possibility. It follows the quiet yet elemental life of Ingrid Barrøy, a girl growing up on a remote Norwegian island in the early 20th century, where her family survives by the rhythm of the sea and seasons. As Ingrid matures, she begins to question her place in this isolated world, torn between the harsh beauty of her home and the pull of the unknown beyond the horizon. A deeply affecting portrait of a family clinging to a place that simultaneously sustains them and seals them off. It combines introspective narratives, minimalist yet evocative writing, and historical explorations of how ordinary lives intersect with nature’s grandeur.
The Surgeon (Tess Gerritson) is a chilling medical thriller about a meticulous serial killer who stalks and murders women in a ritualistic way, leaving behind surgical precision and no clues. As Detective Thomas Moore and trauma surgeon Dr Catherine Cordell (herself a past survivor) get closer to the truth, they discover the killer may be re-enacting her darkest nightmare.
Before I Go to Sleep (S. J. Watson) is a psychological thriller about Christine, a woman who wakes up every day with no memory of her past, relying on notes and the people around her to piece together her life. As she gradually uncovers the truth, she realises that those she trusts most may be hiding dangerous secrets.
Orbital (Samantha Harvey) is a short, poetic novel set aboard the International Space Station, following six astronauts over the course of a single 24-hour period as they circle Earth sixteen times and reflect on existential and planetary themes including the meaning of life, the divine, and climate change.
The Blue Hour (Paula Hawkins) is set on a remote Scottish tidal island, where a curator discovers a possible human bone in a sculpture, pulling together a vanished husband, a scholar, and an old companion into a web of secrets told through shifting timelines. It’s atmospheric and unsettling, exploring art, obsession, and power.
Upgrade (Blake Crouch) is a high-concept science fiction thriller that explores the limits of human evolution and the ethical boundaries of genetic engineering. It follows a man whose DNA is forcibly altered, forcing him to confront what it means to be human in a world where perfection may be the deadliest flaw.
The Traitors (Alan Connor) is an interactive tie-in book to the hit TV series that turns the show’s themes of deception, trust and betrayal into a choose-your-own adventure game, inviting readers to make strategic decisions as they navigate social deduction and shifting alliances. It blends the psychological tension and cunning of the Traitors franchise with puzzle-like scenarios that test logic, intuition, and group dynamics for individual or group play.
While You Sleep (Stephanie Merritt) is a haunting psychological thriller that explores the fine line between sanity and madness, and the shadows that the past can cast over the present. Set on a remote Scottish island, it’s a story steeped in isolation, grief, and the uneasy interplay between reason and the supernatural.
Into the Water (Paula Hawkins) is a layered exploration of memory, fear, and the stories we tell to survive, tracing how a small town’s buried secrets rise like mist from the river that binds it. Hawkins weaves a tense, multi-voiced narrative shaped by trauma, suspicion, and the haunting pull of the past.
Blood Stream (Luca Veste) is a tense, contemporary thriller exploring how fear, media manipulation, and the hunger for spectacle can turn a city against itself, as a mysterious outbreak of violence pushes people to question what’s real and who they can trust. Through its gripping plot and shifting perspectives, the novel reflects on the dangers of conspiracy thinking and the fragility of social cohesion.
Max Verstappen (James Gray) explores the extraordinary rise of the Dutch Formula 1 phenomenon whose fierce competitiveness, innate talent, and single-minded determination have redefined modern racing. The book captures not only his achievements and records but also the mindset, family dynamics, and controversies that shape one of the sport’s most compelling figures.
Night Sky Almanac 2025 (Radmila Topalivic, Storm Dunlop & Wil Tirion) is a yearbook I wouldn’t be without; each year’s edition is always by my side.
This constant lying is not aimed at making the people believe a lie, but at ensuring that no one believes anything anymore. These words, often attributed to Hannah Arendt, are not a direct quotation but a paraphrase of her ideas on truth, lying, and totalitarian control. In her writings, particularly The Origins of Totalitarianism and Truth and Politics, Arendt explored how systematic falsehood corrodes a society’s moral and intellectual foundations, not by persuading people to believe lies, but by making them lose faith in the very concept of truth.
The quote sits beautifully within Arendt’s moral clarity about truth and human responsibility. She warned that when lies become routine and truth becomes relative, people lose their ability to distinguish between what’s real and what’s false, between what’s right and what’s wrong. Once that distinction collapses, judgement itself becomes impossible. In one of her interviews, she explained that when everyone is lied to constantly, the danger isn’t gullibility but cynicism; the sense that nothing can be trusted, that everything is manipulation. And in that condition, people become pliable, unable or unwilling to resist power, for they no longer believe anything can be truly known or changed.
Arendt understood that truth and freedom are intimately bound together. Truth-telling, even when inconvenient, is an act of resistance against domination, because it asserts that reality exists beyond propaganda or ideology. In contrast, lies, especially those repeated by authority, are tools for erasing that shared reality. When truth dissolves, conscience follows, when conscience fades, tyranny thrives.
Her insight feels startlingly relevant today, in an age where misinformation spreads faster than facts, and where many retreat into apathy rather than discernment. Arendt reminds us that truth isn’t a luxury of democracy but its foundation. To care about what’s true, and to keep judging rightly in a world that encourages confusion, is both a moral and political act of courage.
Not as many books read as I’d hoped, as my aim was 24 in 2024.
The Hobbit (J. R. R. Tolkien) I enjoyed listening to this while walking Rufus.
Everything Is F*cked (Mark Manson) Don’t be put off by the title, an excellent book to guide you through life and manage your expectations and mental health.
Tin Men (Christopher Golden) Great science fiction with a good human element and twists.
Alien (Alan Dean Foster) A novel based on the movie, what happens when you don’t listen to a smart woman with a cat.
She/He/They/Me (Robyn Ryle) An interactive book that guides you through the issue of gender, your journey depends on your answers to questions.
Wrong Place Wrong Time (Gillian McAllister) A journey backwards in time to understand a murder.
Eating Robots (Stephen Oram) Short stories that anticipate the near future of technology, often shocking.
Biohacked & Begging (Stephen Oram) Another series of short stories to pull you up sharp and challenge your thinking.
Fathomless Riches (Rev. Richard Coles) A brutally honest autobiography that covers attempted suicide, time in a mental hospital, London’s gay scene, drugs, pop stardom, broadcasting, writing, and life as a vicar – and that’s just for starters! Not for the easily offended.
Beyond the Burn Line (Paul McAuley) A science fiction novel set in the distant future that addresses big issues. I rarely give up on a book but, like many other people, I gave up with this one. My advice, avoid like the plague!
How to Sleep Well (Dr. Neil Stanley) An excellent book covering all aspects of sleep.
Aliens (Jim Al-Khalili/Editor) A comprehensive study about the possibility of life elsewhere in the universe from a variety of authors and experts.
Night Sky Almanac 2024 (Storm Dunlop & Wil Tirion) This is a yearbook I wouldn’t be without; each year’s edition is always by my side.
So, my aim is now at least 25 in 2025, and I’m off to a good start.
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