Nell Goddard

It was a normal Sunday, by all accounts. Sometime in 2011. The 6pm service at church.

Being an introvert is like being a mobile phone.

When the trials of this world buffet And despair is close at hand When betrayal, lies and fear Clothe my every move, my every waking thought, I will cry to you, O my God.

I am a Christian, and often, I do not understand.

What do you say when words are all you have, but words are not enough? Words that put names to your feelings but offer no respite. That give coherence to your questions but offer no answers.

Freshers' Week: A week of strangers, small talk and strange places. An extrovert's dream. An introvert's nightmare. 

You are running. Running fast, running free.

It hurts. Don't lie to yourself.

Good Friday, darkness reigns. Easter Eve, and there is but silence. A seemingly never-ending silence. Mourning. Weeping. Frustration. Confusion. More Darkness. And ever more silence.

I struggle to speak honestly of Good Friday. I struggle because, so often, I long to see it only in the light of Easter Sunday.