• Friendship

    Following in Footprints

    I heard that story once. The one where the man dreams he’s walking along a beach and is puzzled as to why there is only one set of footprints when God told him he’d always walk alongside him in the lowest points of his life. And then God told him that when there was only one set of footprints, he was carrying the man. It was a young guy on a bus that told me years ago. I never thought much of it. Beach. Footprints. God. Dream. Too much philosophy for me. But now, sitting on a hot beach in Cornwall, watching a young man carrying someone who looks old…

  • Dreams

    The Postman

    For some people, a job is just a job. Nine til five. Downing a coffee, organising, emailing, phoning, delegating, sorting, wolfing down lunch, some more emailing, downing a coffee, consulting with colleagues, discussing, downing a coffee, meeting deadlines, catching up with the boss, more emailing. And on it goes, day after day. I used to think of my job as just a job. Until one day, I delivered a special parcel to a young woman who had recently lost her husband. She ripped it open like it held the answer to everything she’d been questioning. I don’t know why a silver medal on a royal blue ribbon overwhelmed her like…