Author: Peter
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Castles in the Sand
Every morning, before the dog gets restless,before the world is fully awake,I sit down in the sandpit. That’s what blogging feels like to me—a place to play with words,to dig deeper into something that caught my attention:a sermon, a podcast, a story, a conversation.I turn it over in my hands like a shell,wondering what shape…
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Fragments from a Conversation
Interviews don’t always flow neatly. Sometimes there are long silences, sudden changes of subject, and words that trail into the air like smoke. That’s how it was talking with Wendy. Her story is not linear, not polished. It comes in fragments, broken sentences, and pauses that say as much as the words. What follows is…
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How Am I Feeling Right Now? A Four-Way Conversation
Mind: You’re fine. Okay. Manageable. But let’s be honest—today’s loaded. An 8.00am meeting, then visiting Mum after her fall and surgery. Lunch with our colleague celebrating citizenship—good, but another thing on the list. And don’t forget the student conversation after that complaint. Important, yes, but draining. Heart: Important, yes—but don’t turn everything into a task…
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Tiny Hinges, Big Doors
It’s the smallest things that open the biggest spaces in life. For me, it starts early. I wake while the house is quiet and write for an hour. The words don’t always come easily, but even the attempt fills me with energy and joy. It’s like oiling the hinges on my day — everything swings…
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The Difference Between Grace and Guilt
The last thing I searched for was an article called “The Broken Grace of Leonard Cohen.” I was thinking about Cohen’s views about God after a funny mix-up in conversation. Someone said that “Into My Arms”—the song about an “Interventionist God”—was Leonard Cohen’s. It isn’t. It belongs to Nick Cave. And while it mentions God,…
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Looking Back at the Shows of My Childhood
When I was a kid, I thought TV was just fun. Looking back now, I see it was also shaping how I laughed, imagined, and even how I thought about the world. If I sat my childhood self and my adult self together on the couch, here’s how the conversation might go. Get Smart Wacky…
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My Favourite Time of Day
My favourite time of day is now.I write these words at five in the morning. The animals are fed and settled,I am fed and settled.The inbox is cleared of clutter—the important messages waitingfor a later hour. Now the house is hushed.The world is still.And I write. This is playtime—my sandpit of words and ideas,where language…
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That They May Be One – John 17:20–23
There is something holyabout being one—the swell of voiceshearts caught in a single rhythm.Or friends,who have carried one anotherthrough laughter and lament,their lives stitched together.Or a song that names a nation:We are one, but we are many.And for a momentthe fragments belongto something larger. On the night before his death,Jesus prayed for us:that we would…
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Strawberry & Rhubarb Crumble
I found the recipe years ago in a weekend newspaper, folded between the gardening pages and the travel lift-out. I didn’t know then that it would become part of the fabric of our life together. I clipped it, tucked it away, and soon it was bubbling in my own oven. The recipe is simple: 500g…
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It Only Takes a Spark
Excitement often comes like a spark—unexpected, bright, and full of energy. Recently, three sparks have lit up my life. A rediscovered spark. After nearly thirty years immersed in academia, I’ve returned to creative writing. It feels like a long-lost part of me has come home. This week I got news that one of my stories…
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The City of the Future
When you step out the door in this city, you don’t face traffic. You face a courtyard. Each cluster of apartments, terraces, or townhouses opens inward, toward a green square where people naturally meet. Streets and cars exist, but they’re pushed to the edges. The courtyard is the neighbourhood’s beating heart. During the day, children…
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Once Common, Now Rare
When I was a kid, Peter was everywhere. It was a widespread boys’ name — unremarkable, ordinary, as common as peanut butter sandwiches in a school lunchbox. In the classroom roll call there were always a few of us, and at sport you could shout “Peter!” and three heads would turn. My parents didn’t choose…
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Telos
I’ve often thought that what motivates us is not simply about the present moment but about where it all leads. The Greek philosophers had a word for this: telos. It means the goal, the end, the purpose toward which something is moving. Money has never been my telos. It provides comfort and security, but by…
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Ten Films That Stay With Me
When asked to name my top ten favourite films, I find I’m less interested in technical brilliance than in the way a story lingers. These are the films that I return to in thought long after the credits roll. Some make me laugh, others leave me quiet with grief, and a few manage to hold…
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The Mirror and The Window
What I enjoy most about writing is that it lets me reflect on life—this wondrous, complex, ambiguous gift we’ve been given. To write is to pause long enough to notice, to respect the joy and mystery of it all. Writing is a mirror. It reflects what I hear, see, and feel. Every week I take…
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The Spirit, Our Helper – John 14:15-27
Not a shadow, not an “it,”but the living breath of God,the third person—to be worshipped, adored, obeyed. If you belong to Christ,you are not waiting for a top-up,no half measure,no trickle-down of holiness.You have all of Him.But does He have all of you? Where He is,there is life,growth,faithfulness.Not dead religion,not tame or sleepy faith. Jesus…
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One Square Kilometre
If I draw a one kilometre square around my home, it is full to the brim. There are the university grounds, broad and green, with a lake where ducks paddle and students sprawl on the grass. The dog loves it there — it’s our favourite loop. There is a nearby forest where neighbours play badminton,…
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Joy arrives early
She never knocks—just slips quietly into the studywhile the kettle hums in the kitchen.She catches me with pen in hand,unfolding thoughts into poetry,threading stories until they can carry someone’squestions without breaking. By the time we step outside,she has borrowed the leash from its hookand is leading me down the street,the dog’s paws whispering on wet…
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The Compass, Not the Map
I’ve never lived with a step-by-step plan designed to land that job or that promotion.No laminated roadmap taped to the wall, no red X marking the destination. Instead, I’ve tried to navigate by two compass points: curiosity and character.Curiosity keeps me exploring,asking “What if?” and “Why not?” when others are certain the path is fixed.Character…
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A Plan That Matches
Most emergency preparedness plans start with a checklist: torches, bottled water, spare batteries. It involves providing essentials and eliminating risk. Mine starts with two people.My mother, 91. My father, 95. Still living in the house they bought sixty years ago. They are determined to keep four things at this stage of life: Moving into higher…
The Afterword 