We begin with the breathtaking claim that humanity is made “in the image and likeness of God” (Genesis 1:26–27). God is not only holy and just; God is also Creator. The first pages of Scripture show a God who speaks light into darkness, shapes form out of chaos, and delights in colour, texture and variety. To be human is to share something of that creative impulse. Imagination is therefore not a luxury or childish indulgence; it is part of our very design.

When Paul prays for the Ephesians that “the eyes of your heart may be enlightened” (Eph. 1:18), he invites them to see with a deeper vision. Christian imagination is not the escape of fantasy but the Spirit’s gift of perceiving reality more fully, seeing what is hidden, discerning what could be, and trusting what God promises before it is visible. The prophets lived this way. Isaiah pictured a peaceable kingdom where wolves and lambs’ dwell together. Ezekiel saw a valley of dry bones come alive. These were not mere dreams but Spirit-inspired pictures of God’s future breaking into the present.

Mystics across the centuries have recognised this inner sight. Teresa of Ávila described the soul as a vast interior castle where Christ dwells in radiant light. Brother Lawrence imagined himself washing pots and pans in the kitchen as though he were at the Lord’s Table. Such vision transforms the ordinary into sacrament.

Our challenge is to reclaim imagination as holy ground. To pause long enough to picture the world as God longs for it to be. To allow Scripture to paint fresh colours on the canvas of our hearts. To invite the Spirit to enlarge our capacity for wonder, empathy and hope. This is not only for artists or poets but for every follower of Christ who longs to live awake.

Prayer:
Creator God, who called light out of darkness, awaken my imagination to Your glory. Cleanse my mind of false fantasies and fill my heart with visions of Your Kingdom. May I see with the eyes of Christ, delight in Your beauty, and live as a sign of Your new creation. Amen.

Coping with Pain and managing suffering.  (Hebrews 12:2–3)

“For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him… so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” – Hebrews 12:2–3 (NIV)

We must begin by clarifying the difference between pain and suffering, Pain is what happens to us. It’s the eina! The effects of that pain lead us to suffering as we bemoan the pain, the inconvenience now facing us. Being forced to stay at home or in hospital, the feeling of letting others down, having to miss special events, kicking ourselves for whatever it was that happened. Thats suffering, and we inflict it on ourselves.

Jesus was in obvious pain, but he wasn’t suffering – quite the opposite he scorned the shame. Please see this clearly. He was not going to start feeling sorry for himself.

Pain and distress are the great tests of the human spirit. It exposes what we truly believe. It forces us to confront our limits. For many, it can lead to suffering, bringing confusion, anger, or despair. But in Jesus, we see a radically different response. He managed the suffering—not with bitterness or avoidance, but with purpose, clarity, and even joy.

The mind of Christ does not deny pain. Jesus felt it deeply: in His body, in His spirit, in His soul. He wept, agonised in Gethsemane, and cried out from the cross. Yet beneath it all, there was a steady trust in the Father’s plan. He saw beyond the moment. “For the joy (NOT the SUFFERING) set before him he endured the cross.”

This is not a shallow joy. It is not about pretending everything is fine. It is about seeing through the pain to the promise. Jesus endured because He trusted that rejection was not the end of the story. He saw the end result it would bring—the salvation of the world, the restoration of all things.

To have the mind of Christ is not to become caught up in self-inflicted suffering but to walk through the challenge with purpose. It is to hold on to hope when life hurts. To remain faithful when tempted to give up. To fix our eyes, not on our present struggle, but on the joy that lies beyond it.

Hebrews urges us to “consider him”—to meditate on the way Christ rose above suffering—not as a distant example, but as a present companion. He knows what it is to be blamed unjustly, to be misunderstood, abandoned, betrayed. And He walks with us still.

This mindset transforms how we view hardship. We don’t have to see pain as punishment. We can begin to ask: What might God be forming in me through this? What fruit could grow from this season? The cross, after all, gave way to resurrection. So let us not grow weary. Let us not lose heart. The One who endured is the One who sustains us too.

Rev Mike Crockett is a trained Mindfulness Therapist specializing in this field and would be happy to sit with you if you are struggling in this area of your life 0813366143

God in the darkness

You see me even when I cannot see myself.
You are near, though I feel far from everything.
I sit in silence, unsure of the way forward.
But still—I am held.

When the darkness comes like a heavy fog,
Whisper to me that this, too, is not beyond Your reach.
You have walked roads of sorrow;
You have known the quiet ache of the soul.

Remind me that I am not my feelings.
I am not my failures.
I am not forgotten.

Give me grace for this moment—
Not the strength to leap, but the courage to stay.
To breathe,
To notice,
To trust that even here, you are at work.

And when I cannot pray,
May Your Spirit pray for me.
When I cannot hope,
May others hope on my behalf.

Until the morning comes again—
Be my light in the dark place.
Amen.