My Christian Testimony (recorded before 2023).

There are many good Catechisms available. But, somewhere along the line Christians in many parts of the church at large seem to have lost this age old practice of simple instruction in the format of questions and answers. In no way is this little contribution meant to take away from good Catechisms already written, but rather to be a compliment to them. This is a simple way for me to share the good news with others. It is my hope that you the reader or listener may find biblical help from the simplicity of the good news.

"...I don't believe this is a disorder, disease or demon. It is merely a difference, a neurodivergence. If people do wish to pray things away, may it be abelism in our society that they turn the fight against..."

March, April, May Edition Dear friends in Christ, ​Welcome. ​This space exists for one reason: love — the love of God poured out in Jesus Christ, the love we are called to extend to one another, and to the world. ​There are many voices clamouring for our attention right now. The world is fast, loud, and full of heavy demands. But here, you will find the rhythm of just one heart seeking to follow the way of Love. ​Welcome to The Muddy Pioneer. This is Episode Zero: How I Walk — An Invitation to the Unhurried Path. ​As a pioneer minister leading a "muddy church" walking fellowship here in Scotland, my ministry doesn't happen behind heavy oak doors, under artificial lights, or within rigid institutional walls. It happens out on the paths, under the open sky, and in the quiet, unpolished spaces of creation. Together, we learn to walk at a slower, more natural pace. This is a faith rooted not in religious tradition for its own sake, but in the living, active, self-giving love at the heart of the Gospel. ​Before we journey together through the seasons down the trail, I wanted to lay out a bit of a Muddy Church manifesto—the three truths that have become my baseline anchors on this path. ​Anchor One: The Living Word ​First, the Living Word. Jesus Christ is God manifest in the flesh. Apart from Him, the true God cannot be fully known. In Jesus, we don't see a God of condemnation or distance; we see the face of a God who is Love, and whose Gospel is the organic path of Peace. ​Anchor Two: The Gift of Grace ​Second, the Gift of Grace. I believe with all my heart that salvation is found by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. To me, this means grace is a total gift — entirely unearned, freely given, and deeply life-changing. ​You do not have to perform here. You do not have to mask your struggles, achieve a certain standard, or pretend to be someone you are not just to be held by God. His grace is as free, open, and unconditional as the fresh air we breathe when we step outside. ​Anchor Three: The Way of Love ​And third, the Way of Love. It is our joy and our calling to follow Him. Though we stumble frequently through our human frailty and our messy lives, our compass remains firmly set toward holiness. ​We simply hold to the Golden Rule: to love God, and to love one another — even our enemies. This is the active, lived, muddy faith that has the power to heal a fractured world. ​These are the pillars of my path. I invite you to sit with them for a moment, perhaps take them on a physical walk today, and ask yourself: how is Love calling you forward right now? ​Beyond the theology, I want to be completely transparent with you. Here are ten things that help define who I am, how I minister, and how I walk through this world: ​I am neurodivergent — Autistic. I see the intricate, beautiful, interconnected patterns of God's creation through a unique lens, and I deeply appreciate low-sensory, quiet spaces where the soul can finally breathe. ​I am a follower of Jesus. He is my North Star — or more accurately, the bright Morning Star. ​I am a seeker of Peace. I stand firmly with the Red Letter Christians and the peacemakers of this world. ​I dwell in Scotland. My faith and my pioneer ministry are deeply nourished by these rugged landscapes, the changing weather, and the ancient paths of the Celtic saints. ​I find the Divine in the ordinary, the muddy, the unpolished, and the overlooked. ​I am a poet. I capture my t...

(Please note this episode references the previous name of the podcast: Above All Love) June, July, August Edition Script: Above All Love A Muddy Church Reflection Episode 1: 🎧 Introduction You: "Hello, and welcome back to Above All Love. I’m so glad you’re here with me today. Today, we’re doing things a little differently. If you are able, I’d love for you to pop your headphones in, put your coat on, and step outside. Find a patch of grass, a local park, or a path into the woods. If you’re at home today and can’t get out, that’s completely okay—just close your eyes and let your imagination walk with me. As we start, I want you to take a deep breath. Let your shoulders drop. For the next fifteen minutes, you don’t have to achieve anything. You don’t have to prove your worth. You are just here, walking with God—and with the understanding that your good works are already prepared for you by Him." 📖 The Scripture & The Forest Analogy You: *"Our focus today is a reminder that we often desperately need to hear, especially when life is heavy and demands are high. It’s from Ephesians 2:8–9: ‘For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.’ If you are walking right now, I want you to pause for a second and look around you at the trees. Look up at the canopy, or down at the grass beneath your boots. Think about how much effort these trees are putting in right now to exist. They aren’t striving. The oak tree isn’t looking at the pine tree, trying to out-work it. The moss on the stone isn’t panicking about its productivity. They simply rest in the soil, drink the rain, and receive the sunlight that is freely given to them. They exist by grace. And so do you. But here’s the beautiful part: while we aren’t saved by works, we are created for good works—works that God has already prepared for us to do. Our striving isn’t to earn love or acceptance; it’s to respond to the love and acceptance we’ve already received. The trees don’t grow to prove themselves; they grow because they’re alive, and in their growth, they become part of something greater. So it is with us." 🍃 The Sensory Practice (Nature Connection) You: "Let’s try a little invitation together. I want you to look around you and find something that is completely free and completely effortless—something that doesn’t have to do anything to be itself. Maybe it’s a fallen leaf on the ground, a smooth stone, or a piece of bark. Pick it up and hold it in your hand. Feel the texture of it. As you hold that object, remember this: nobody manufactured this leaf to earn its place in the woods. God created it, sustains it, and loves it just as it is. And yet, in its stillness, it plays a part in the ecosystem around it. It shelters insects, decomposes to nourish the soil, or crumbles to become part of the earth again. We live in a world that tells us we are only valuable if we are working, achieving, or climbing ladders. If you are a carer, if you are neurodivergent, or if you are just exhausted, you might feel like you are constantly failing to do enough. But God says: My grace is a gift. You cannot earn it, and the beautiful news is, you don’t have to. And yet, in your rest, you will find that God has already equipped you to bear fruit—fruit that He has prepared for you to produce, not to prove." 🤔 The Wondering Questions You: "As we pre...

​This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't need to have your theology sorted to be here. You don't need to feel worthy, or confident, or certain of your standing before God. ​You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this — carrying whatever you carry, however long you've been carrying it. ​If you need to read slowly, or stop and come back — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here. ​Hymn ​We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on. ​Not the labours of my hands Can fulfil thy law's demands; Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone; Thou must save, and thou alone. ​— Augustus Toplady, Rock of Ages ​Prayer ​Gracious God, ​Thank you that you do not ask us to earn what we could never afford. ​Thank you that the verdict you speak over us in Christ — righteous, beloved, accepted — is not a verdict we worked for, or argued our way to, or deserved by any accumulation of effort or goodness. ​We confess that we still reach for the scorecard sometimes. We still half-believe that we must do something more, be something more, before we are truly welcome. ​Meet us today in the gap between what we have done and what you have done. Let the love of Christ cover it. ​And may we leave this time knowing — not just in our heads, but somewhere deeper — that the gift is already given, and our hands are simply asked to be open. ​Amen. ​Old Testament Anchor ​Before Paul writes his great argument in Romans, a voice from the wilderness of Israel's own history had already heard the same word. ​"Come, everyone who is thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which does not satisfy?" ​— Isaiah 55:1–2 (ESV) ​This is the heartbeat underneath the whole gospel. The invitation is to those who have nothing. Not those who have almost enough, or who are nearly ready. Those who have no money. Those who are hungry without the means to feed themselves. ​The question that cuts is this: why do you labour for that which does not satisfy? ​Why do you keep reaching for something that will not hold? Why work for a righteousness that will always fall a little short, that will always leave you wondering if you have quite done enough? ​There is bread here. It costs nothing. That is not a bargain — it is a gift. ​Scripture ​Our reading today is from Romans chapter three, verses twenty-two to twenty-eight, from the Easy English Bible. ​"God makes people right with himself. He does this through faith in Jesus Christ. He does it for everyone who believes. All people have done wrong things and have fallen short of God's glory. God is kind to us. He does not give us what we deserve. He makes us right with himself as a free gift. Jesus Christ set us free from the power of wrong things. God offered Jesus as a gift. Through his blood, Jesus became the way for God to forgive our sins. God did this to show that he is right and fair. In the past, he had been patient and had not punished people for their wrong things. Now he shows that he is right and fair. He is right himself and he makes right any person who has faith in Jesus. So the...

Welcome ​Welcome to Above All Love. This is Simply Fellowship — the Good News, quietly told. ​This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't need to have answers about buildings or belonging, or about where God is or isn't. You don't need to have a church to come back to, or feel the loss of one that has gone. ​You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this — in a home, in a garden, on a phone in a waiting room, or anywhere else entirely. ​If you need to read slowly, or stop and come back — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here. ​Hymn ​We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on. ​O thou not made with hands, Not throned above the skies, Nor walled with shining walls, Nor framed with stones of price, More bright than gold or gem, God's own Jerusalem. — F. T. Palgrave ​Prayer ​Living God, ​Thank you that you are not confined to any building we have made for you. Thank you that no steeple contains you, no locked door shuts you out, no sale sign diminishes you. ​Meet us today wherever we are — in our homes and our routines, our advocacy and our wandering, our walks through the woods and our late nights on screens. Remind us that we carry something we did not build and cannot lose. Remind us that the Presence is not somewhere we have to travel to. ​And if we have grieved the loss of a place that felt holy to us — let us grieve it honestly, and then find you here, still, in this body, in this breath, in this moment. ​Amen. ​Old Testament Anchor ​Before we reach the New Testament's radical rethinking of the temple, we need to hear the older voice that already knew this truth. ​"Heaven is My throne, and earth is My footstool. Where is the house that you will build Me? And where is the place of My rest? For all those things My hand has made, and all those things exist," says the Lord. "But on this one will I look: on him who is poor and of a contrite spirit, and who trembles at My word." — Isaiah 66:1–2 (NKJV) ​This is the word underneath the early church's astonishing shift. Long before Stephen stood before the Sanhedrin, long before Paul preached in Athens, Isaiah had heard God say it plainly: the house you could build me is not the house I want. What I look for is not architecture. It is a heart. ​Scripture ​Our reading today is drawn from Acts 7:48–50 and Acts 17:24 (Easy English Bible). ​"But the Most High God does not live in buildings that people make. As the prophet wrote: The Lord says, 'Heaven is my throne. The earth is a place to rest my feet. What kind of house would you build for me? Where would I rest? I myself have made all these things.'" ​"God made the world and everything in it. He is Lord of heaven and earth. He does not live in buildings that people make." ​Devotion ​In Scotland, it is becoming a common sight to see a For Sale sign outside a kirk. ​Many of these buildings — some centuries old, some the anchor of a community for generations — are being converted into flats, bars, community centres. On a cultural level, it can feel like loss. It is a visible sign of a shifting landscape. But we must be careful what we mourn. ​Because the buildings are just that. Bricks and mortar. The work of human hands, offered to God, yes — but not the dwelling place of God. ​Stephen knew this, and it cost him something to say it. Sta...

Welcome Welcome to Above All Love. This is Simply Fellowship — the Good News, quietly told. This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't have to have it together to be here. You don't have to be certain, or hopeful, or even very present today. You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this. If you need to read slowly, or stop and come back — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here. Hymn We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on. Just as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me, And that thou bidst me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come, I come. — Charlotte Elliott Prayer Loving God, Thank you that you do not wait for us to deserve welcome before you offer it. Thank you that your arms are already open before we have finished our speeches, before we have explained ourselves, before we have made ourselves presentable. Meet us today in the far country, if that is where we are — or in the long road home, or at the door. Wherever we are on the journey, let us feel the movement of your love running toward us. And if we have been standing in the field a long time, watching from a distance, finding it hard to go in — grant us the grace to step across the threshold. Amen. Old Testament Anchor "I will arise and go to my father, and will say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no more worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired servants." — Luke 15:18–19 (NKJV, for context) But before we reach the son's rehearsed speech, we need to hear the older word that echoes underneath it. The prophet Hosea, writing from within a broken covenant — God's people far from home, scattered, faithless — hears God speak in a way that should not sound like God at all: "How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel?... My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused. I will not carry out my fierce anger... For I am God, and not a man — the Holy One among you." — Hosea 11:8–9 This is the heartbeat underneath the parable. The God who cannot let go. The Father who is undone by love. Not a cold sovereign distributing justice from a distance — but one whose heart turns within him at the thought of the lost child. How can I give you up? It is not a rhetorical question. It is a cry. And it is the cry that sends the father running down the road. Scripture Our reading today is from Luke chapter fifteen, verses eleven to twenty-four, from the Easy English Bible. Jesus also said, "There was a man who had two sons. The younger son said to his father, 'Father, please give me my part of your property now.' So the father gave each of his sons their part of his things. A few days later, the younger son sold everything that was his. He went away to a country far away. There he wasted all his money by living in a wrong way. He spent everything. Then there was no food to eat in that country, and he began to be hungry. He went to work for a man who lived there, and that man sent him to his fields to look after the pigs. He was so hungry that he wanted to eat the pig food. But nobody gave him anything. Then he began to think clearly again. He said to himself, 'My father's servants have plenty of food to eat. And here I am, so hungry that I am nearly dying. I will go back to my father, and I will say to him, "Fathe...

This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't have to have it together to be here. You don't have to be healed, or feeling anything in particular today. You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this. If you need to move, or step away and come back later — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here. HYMN We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on. Breathe on me, Breath of God, Fill me with life anew, That I may love what thou dost love, And do what thou wouldst do. — Edwin Hatch PRAYER Loving God, Thank you that you do not wait for us to be well before you notice us. Thank you that in the middle of our years — in the middle of our waiting, our weariness, our half-lived lives — you are not absent. Revive us today, not in some distant future, but here, in the midst of things. And if we find ourselves healed and walking forward, may we be the kind of people who turn back. Amen. OLD TESTAMENT ANCHOR "Lord, I have heard your fame. I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Renew them in our day, make them known in our time; in wrath remember mercy." — Habakkuk 3:2 The prophet Habakkuk is not praying from a place of triumph. He is praying from the middle. He has heard what God has done in the past — the great deeds, the ancient mercies — and he is asking that those same deeds might happen again, now, in his own time. Not in some golden age. Not when things are better. Now. In the midst of the years. Revive us, O Lord, in the midst of the years. It is one of the most honest prayers in scripture. It does not pretend things are fine. It does not wait until they are. It simply asks: would you do it again? Here? For us? SCRIPTURE Our reading today is from Luke chapter seventeen, verses eleven to nineteen, from the Easy English Bible. As Jesus was going to Jerusalem, he walked along the border between Samaria and Galilee. He was going into a village when ten men met him who had a skin disease. They were standing far away from him. They called out to him, "Jesus! Master! Please help us!" When Jesus saw them, he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." As they went, they were healed and made clean. When one of them saw that he was healed, he came back. He praised God with a loud voice. He bowed down at Jesus' feet with his face on the ground. He thanked Jesus. This man was from Samaria. Jesus asked, "Were not ten healed? Where are the other nine? Has no one come back to praise God except this man from another country?" Then Jesus said to him, "Stand up and go. Your faith has made you well." DEVOTION They were standing far away. That is where the story begins. Not in a crowd, not in a conversation — at a distance. Because they had to be. The law said so. They were unclean, and the world had arranged itself accordingly: over there, not here. Close enough to be seen, far enough not to touch. But they had heard about Jesus. And so they called out — a single, desperate cry across the gap: Jesus! Master! Please help us! It is not an elaborate prayer. There is no theology in it, no doctrinal precision. Just a name, a title, and a please. Just ten human beings, standing at a distance from everything they wanted to belong to, asking to be brought back in. And Jesus does something surprising. He doesn't touch them, doesn't pronounce them healed, doesn't make a spectacle. He simply says...

WELCOME Welcome to Above All Love. This is Simply Fellowship — the Good News, quietly told. This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't have to have it together to be here. You don't have to be hopeful, or certain, or even feel particularly faithful today. You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this. If you need to move, or step away and come back later — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here. HYMN We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on. Abide with me; fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide; When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me. — Henry Francis Lyte PRAYER Loving God, Thank you that you walk beside us even when we do not know it is you. Thank you that you ask us questions and listen to our answers, and do not tell us off for getting things wrong. Help us today to recognise you — in the breaking of bread, in the kindness of a stranger, in the moment when our hearts feel strangely warm. And may we find, when we look back, that you were with us all along. Amen. SCRIPTURE Our reading today is from Luke chapter twenty-four, verses thirteen to thirty-five, from the Easy English Bible. That same day, two of Jesus' followers were going to a village called Emmaus. It was about eleven kilometres from Jerusalem. They were talking together about everything that had happened. While they were talking, Jesus himself came near and walked along with them. But they did not recognise him. He asked them, "What are you talking about as you walk along?" They stopped. They looked very sad. One of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered, "Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that happened there recently?" Jesus asked them, "What things?" They told him about Jesus of Nazareth. They told him that the chief priests and rulers had handed him over to be killed. They had hoped that he was the one who would set Israel free. But now it was the third day since these things had happened. Some women of their group had surprised them. The women went to the tomb early in the morning. They did not find his body there. They came and told them that they had seen angels, who said that Jesus was alive. Then Jesus explained to them what was said about himself in all the scriptures. When they came near to the village, Jesus acted as if he was going further on. But they asked him strongly to stay. "Stay with us," they said. "It is nearly evening and the day is almost over." So he went in to stay with them. While he was at the table with them, he took the bread. He gave thanks for it. He broke it and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognised him. And he disappeared from their sight. They said to each other, "Our hearts were burning inside us while he talked with us on the road." DEVOTION They are walking away. That is the first thing to notice. Not towards Jerusalem, where the other disciples are gathered. Away from it. Away from the empty tomb, away from the rumours, away from the women's astonishing report that he was alive. They have heard all of it and it has not been enough. They are going home — or somewhere that feels more like home than a city full of confusion and grief. It is hard to blame them. Three days earlier, everything they had hoped for had been nailed to a cross and buried....