Tag: purpose

Beyond Roses and Romance

Love is everywhere, isn’t it, if we have eyes to see. In the warmth of family, in the laughter of children, in the steady companionship of a faithful dog, in friendships formed through shared life and service. Love shows up in the simple joys that make life feel full, music that stirs the soul, learning that stretches the mind, beauty that catches our breath, and the deep gratitude of simply being alive.

And yet, above and through all these loves flows something greater, God’s perfect love, the love that gives meaning and purpose to every other love we experience. Jesus says he has come that we may have life, and have it to the full, not a shallow happiness, but a rich, rooted life held in God’s hands.

Scripture celebrates this love of life. The psalmist stands in wonder at creation, delighting in the works of the Lord. Another psalm paints love in the ordinary holiness of home, shared tables, companionship, and blessing. Romans reminds us that even in sorrow, God is still the source of hope, filling us with joy and peace as we trust in him. For with him is the fountain of life, and in his light we see light.

Human love longs to endure, as Shakespeare wrote, an ever-fixèd mark, unshaken by storms. Song of Songs declares love as fierce as fire, stronger than death, unquenchable by deep waters. And in Christ, we see love made flesh, steadfast, sacrificial, and true.

So today, we give thanks for every love that colours our lives, and we rest in the greatest love of all. God’s love, endless, faithful, beyond all price. May our hearts be softened by it, and may our lives quietly overflow with it, as we go in peace to love and to serve.

Note: This devotional is based on worship I led at Stockton Salvation Army on Sunday 15 February 2026, you can see my full notes by clicking here.

An Invitation to Hope

A New Year always arrives quietly. No fanfare, no guarantees, just a clean page waiting for the first mark. It can feel hopeful and heavy all at once. We carry into the New Year the joys we want to protect and the disappointments we’d rather leave behind. And yet, here we are, breathing, still becoming.

This is a gentle reminder that you don’t have to rush. Growth rarely announces itself with fireworks. More often, it looks like small, faithful steps taken when no one is watching. A kinder word spoken. A habit nudged slightly in a healthier direction. A decision to begin again, even if you’ve already begun many times before.

The New Year isn’t a test you can fail. It’s an invitation. An opening to live a little more truthfully, love a little more bravely, and listen a little more deeply, to others, to yourself, and to God. Scripture often speaks of newness not as something dramatic, but as something quietly persistent. Morning by morning, mercies renewed. Strength given for today, not for the whole year at once.

So set your intentions lightly. Hold your plans with humility. Celebrate progress, however modest it seems. And when you stumble, because you will, remember that grace doesn’t run out in February.

May this New Year be shaped not by pressure, but by purpose. Not by fear, but by faith. Step forward with hope, trusting that even unfinished, uncertain steps can still lead somewhere good.