Dear Friends,
As we continue to navigate a world marked by uncertainty and challenge—be it conflict abroad, pressures at home, or quiet personal struggles—May arrives with its own quiet grace. In the Church calendar, we are journeying through the Easter season, still holding onto the hope of the Resurrection, and looking ahead to Pentecost. And in the world around us, signs of new life are everywhere.
Here in the UK, May brings us longer days, blooming gardens, and the gentle hum of life returning to the land. Buebells carpet our woods, birdsong fills the early mornings, and everything seems to whisper a message we so need to hear: life endures, and God is still at work.
It’s a month rich in tradition—beginning with May Day, historically a time of celebrating the land and its rhythms, and marked today by rest, reflection, and a pause from our daily routines. There are two Bank Holidays offering moments to breathe, to gather, and to reconnect.
In many communities, this is also the season for community gatherings—fairs, teas, and garden openings. These moments, though small, carry great significance. They are acts of faith in their own way: expressions of fellowship, hospitality, and shared joy. After all, Jesus often chose the ordinary, a shared meal, a walk through the fields, a conversation by a well, to reveal something extraordinary.
May is also traditionally the month of Mary in many Christian traditions, especially in Catholic and Anglican churches. She is honoured not just as the mother of Jesus, but as a symbol of quiet strength, faithfulness, and hope. In Mary, we see the beauty of a life attuned to God’s purposes, even when the path is uncertain.
In these troubled times, May invites us to remember who we are as Easter people.
People of hope. People of light. People rooted in the truth that Christ is risen, and that even the darkest seasons are not the end of the story. Just as the land revives, so can our spirits. Just as nature blooms again, so too can our faith be renewed.
May we see this month as a time to pray, to rest, to reach out to those who are struggling, and to take joy in the gifts God is still giving each day. May we trust that even when we cannot see the whole path ahead, the One who made the seasons is still guiding our steps.
Go well
Karen
As we continue to navigate a world marked by uncertainty and challenge—be it conflict abroad, pressures at home, or quiet personal struggles—May arrives with its own quiet grace. In the Church calendar, we are journeying through the Easter season, still holding onto the hope of the Resurrection, and looking ahead to Pentecost. And in the world around us, signs of new life are everywhere.
Here in the UK, May brings us longer days, blooming gardens, and the gentle hum of life returning to the land. Buebells carpet our woods, birdsong fills the early mornings, and everything seems to whisper a message we so need to hear: life endures, and God is still at work.
It’s a month rich in tradition—beginning with May Day, historically a time of celebrating the land and its rhythms, and marked today by rest, reflection, and a pause from our daily routines. There are two Bank Holidays offering moments to breathe, to gather, and to reconnect.
In many communities, this is also the season for community gatherings—fairs, teas, and garden openings. These moments, though small, carry great significance. They are acts of faith in their own way: expressions of fellowship, hospitality, and shared joy. After all, Jesus often chose the ordinary, a shared meal, a walk through the fields, a conversation by a well, to reveal something extraordinary.
May is also traditionally the month of Mary in many Christian traditions, especially in Catholic and Anglican churches. She is honoured not just as the mother of Jesus, but as a symbol of quiet strength, faithfulness, and hope. In Mary, we see the beauty of a life attuned to God’s purposes, even when the path is uncertain.
In these troubled times, May invites us to remember who we are as Easter people.
People of hope. People of light. People rooted in the truth that Christ is risen, and that even the darkest seasons are not the end of the story. Just as the land revives, so can our spirits. Just as nature blooms again, so too can our faith be renewed.
May we see this month as a time to pray, to rest, to reach out to those who are struggling, and to take joy in the gifts God is still giving each day. May we trust that even when we cannot see the whole path ahead, the One who made the seasons is still guiding our steps.
Go well
Karen