One of the things that makes me feel anxious is flying. If I can avoid it, then I will. I much prefer travelling on a bus from the Newcastle to Wales than flying on a plane. My stress on a plane really begins when one of the attendants says something like this “We’d like your attention for a few minutes while we show you some of the safety features of this aircraft…” The attendant then shows you how to fasten the seat belt, and advises you to keep it fastened during the flight. You are told the number and location of the emergency exits. And how, in the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, an individual oxygen mask will be lowered in front of you. You are told that under the seat there is a life-jacket for use in the event of having to ditch into the ocean. The idea behind all this is to help passengers be prepared for the unexpected. But few pay attention to what the attendant is saying. If anything, it serves only to further unnerve the nervous.

I am writing to you in the days leading up to Pentecost. The sun is shining through the study window. A beautiful day to thank God for His creation.

Before the coming of the Holy Spirit, the apostles were virtually living in hiding in the upper room. A great task had been entrusted to them, yet they neither had the strength or the will to begin it. But after Pentecost they were changed people.

By seeing and touching the wounds of his risen Lord, Thomas the doubter is cured of his unbelief.

Some people are born into a religious faith, and with the passage of the years find this faith increasingly strong and sustaining.