“Radical Hairstyles” by Joel Penner is licensed under CC BY 2.0It’s really quite a profound thing when we use the phrase ‘radical Christian’.

Surely if Jesus was a radical (and I don’t think you can argue that he wasn’t, whether you agree with him or not), and if Christian means a follower of Jesus, then isn’t radical part of the definition of a Christian.

So isn’t using the words a ‘radical Christian’, the same as saying a ‘Christian Christian’?

So if we say ‘radical Christian’ meaning others are not so radical, do we really mean that others are, perhaps, not Christian at all?

In view of what Jesus himself says in Mathew 7:21-22, delivered as part of the Sermon on the Mount, his most radical manifesto of all, perhaps we are!?!


“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!”







Something a little bit different from me today!

If we submit our creativity and imagination to God, we too can be part of the vast creative energy pouring from our Creator Father God.

So when an old friend from missionary days announced she had written a book about the Father’s love for Eve, had found revelation and understanding via the Holy Spirit and the Word of God, of the depth of that love for Eve and all her daughters (and of course for all mankind) I was immediately fired up to help with her book launch.

Having read the book now I’m so glad I did! I recommend it, Forever Loved: Eve’s Story – A Creative Re-telling, and my dear friend, Joanna May Chee, to you whole heartedly.


“Forever Loved: Eve’s Story is the story of Father and daughter, as told by Eve. It is the story of a love so deep, so passionate, so beautiful, it pursues Eve even in her darkest moment, lavishing forgiveness, life and hope on her. It is the story of the Father’s heart for you, his precious daughter. He whispers to you now and calls you closer.”

Simply but beautifully written we experience Eve’s life from her own perspective. The book opens with a vivid description of her first, formative moments, “Gradually, a glow, like the first touch of sunrise, then a brightening, a flickering orange behind my eyelids.  I open my eyes. Waterfalls of soft light”.  It then describes and support’s the fact that she did indeed find that time with Father alone before her idyllic and fantastic life with Adam, the wonders of Eden and glories of face to face communion with Father and a richness of existence way beyond our current one. Whilst we know the story and that this cannot last, Joanna has captured the wonder, simplicity and tremendous REST that living from the Fathers love brings…a love we can experience now because of the Cross.

“All I knew of in those early days was love and acceptance. I was not an after thought. As my Father shared his heart with me, I learned of my preciousness. I was a treasure to be sought and found.”

The Fall is indeed awful. But the insight and agony that Joanna portrays from Eve’s heart is truly enlightening, The consequences never stop, and as a mother I felt so deeply for Eve as Cain kills Abel, knowing that fatal bite has caused her own flesh and blood to this.

But far more striking is the enormous grace that the she and Adam receive from Father in spite of the consequences of their actions…and that is the message of the book.


“Adam and I are remembered for the wrong we did, not for the saving love of our amazing Father.”

Alongside Eve’s story Joanna shares something of her own journey, how that led her to write the book and she invites each reader to go deeper with Father God providing lots of biblical background and references to support the story and the truth it contains.

It is released on 27th February 2018 and can be bought via Amazon, The Book Depository and other good outlets.

Read more reviews, find out more, and see all purchasing options here.

I do hope this has encouraged you to check it out further. There are some more links and information below.

Praying God’s abundant and sacred blessings be upon you this day,  Wondering Celt X


 By clicking here you can listen to Joanna teaching on these themes from her book.

Her video Knowing God:First Steps is available here.

A seasoned blogger, she can also be found here: this particular blog post is on the very first time God spoke to her about Eve, and now its a whole book!

She loves to write, and is often awake in the night with a million ideas for her next book or project. It is her heart to encourage and equip women to love their families and meet with God. Joanna blogs at JoannaMayChee.com and MumsKidsJesus.com, where her blog posts, free resources and courses are a source of encouragement and inspiration to women around the world. Joanna, her husband, and four children have lived and ministered in Malaysia, Bosnia and Turkey, and are now settled near London. Connect with Joanna: Facebook.com/JoannaMayChee | Facebook.com/MumsKidsJesus | Pinterest.co.uk/MumsKidsJesus



There were 33 years between the First Christmas and the First Easter.

We talked last night, around a table filled with good food and friendships, of how so often we underestimate the connection between the two. And how many moderns, post-moderns, millennials, whatever…don’t even realise there is a connection at all.

The donkey knew…

What the Donkey Saw

No room in the inn, of course,

And not that much in the stable,

What with the shepherds, Magi, Mary,

Joseph, the heavenly host –

Not to mention the baby

Using our manger as a cot.

You couldn’t have squeezed another cherub in

For love or money.

Still in spite of the overcrowding,

I did my best to make them feel wanted.

I could see the baby and I

Would be going places together.





*Ursula Askham Fanthorpe, CBE, FRSL (22 July 1929 – 28 April 2009) was an English poet. She published under the form U. A. Fanthorpe.


By ESA/Hubble, <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0" title="Creative Commons Attribution 4.0">CC BY 4.0</a>, <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38696354">Link</a>

A young star takes centre stage

A Presbyterian Blessing

In hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.


Limited by mortality

yet destined for liberation,

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.


Groaning as if in childbirth,

sampling the fruits of God’s harvest

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.


Trusting in what is unseen,

believing the best is yet to come,

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.


In the wilderness of a stable,

where the Maker of All will be born,

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.





Photo: By ESA/Hubble, <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0&#8243; title=”Creative Commons Attribution 4.0″>CC BY 4.0</a>, <a href=”https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38696354″>Link</a&gt;


Pilgrims on the Road to Emmaus by James Tissot 1832-1902 (public domain)

When I was very young and the urge to be some place else was on me, I was assured that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy was middle age. In my middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. Four hoarse blasts of a ships whistle will raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping. The sound of a jet, an engine warming up, even the clip of shod hooves on pavement brings on the ancient shudder, the dry mouth and vacant eye, the hot palms and the churn of stomach high up under the rib cage. In other words, I don’t improve; in further words, once a bum always a bum. I fear the disease is incurable. I set this matter down not to instruct others but to inform myself…

…in this a journey is like a marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to try to control it. I feel better now having said this, although only those who have experienced it will understand it.

Sadly, not my words (I wish!)…but those of John Steinbeck written in the early ’60’s as he started to recount his Travels With Charley: In Search of America, published in 1962.

Once upon a time I was a missionary. The mission I worked with was unique in that it was very similar to a monastic community of old. Like Illtydd of the 6th century it trains up recruits in a rhythm of prayer and work, then sends them out along the highways and byways of countries near and far, open or closed, to pray, to serve and to pioneer new openings with the help of the Holy Spirit.

Journeys were important to the Celtic saints of old and many were supernatural in nature and intent. As Jesus did in Luke 10, our mission often sent out small teams with simply the clothes they wore and the little money they had, to prayerfully set off on journeys of simplicity returning a few days later with amazing tales of God breaking out and making a way for them to share the gospel, to commit acts of kindness and to see healing and provision of a miraculous nature. I, myself, did several in areas as diverse as the Atlas Mountains of Morocco, the Southern Carpathians in NE Romania and also a couple of times in Malaysia. In each case God did amazing things for us.

I even set off once on a journey to the Far East, knowing the destination in theory, but not having a clue to where it actually was in the world! I had to turn to the inflight magazine for that information.

I’ve been blessed to have travelled the world over and lost count of the countries I’ve visited and lived in. But the most difficult, marvellous journey I have ever taken was the Interior One. It began with all the excitement and passion described by the Nobel winning, Steinbeck. It has been impossible to control, and the destination uncertain although guaranteed. And in the fact that my journey guide is persistent, sometimes silent, often seemingly distant and at odds with my opinion, very like a marriage!

The Celts memorised and sang the entire canon of Psalms for their worship life and would sing them to encourage their souls on journeys (although they walked or sailed and not taking planes).

Somethings never change…and that’s a good thing.


The interior of Union Chapel, Islington, London.

The interior of Union Chapel, Islington, London.

I recently found a piece of writing that describes the personal experience of the journey towards faith brilliantly!

From the book, All The Hopeful Lovers by William Nicholson, it tells of the wonderings of a character called Roddy. It takes place in Union Chapel (a real place, see above) in Islington, London.

I share it in the spirit of another quote of William’s, “We read to know we are not alone.” May it touch you today on your wondering journey…

“Roddy Dalgliesh sits at the end of a pew at the back of the Union Chapel, which is just a few streets from his home. He’s taken to dropping in here, not for the services or the concerts, but for the quietness. He needs space to think, and the Union Chapel is a grand space.

For prayer too, perhaps. Roddy is reluctant to call what passes through his mind by the name of prayer because he has no clear notion of a recipient of his prayer. He has left unbelief behind, but has not yet arrived at belief. This is what is so hard to explain to others. He is embarked on a great adventure.

Keep thyself as a stranger and a pilgrim upon the earth*.

Roddy finds these words profoundly moving. They move him emotionally, but also physically, too. They make him want to move. They make  him want to disburden himself and pass as lightly as a bird or a cloud over the landscape. He want to cut all ties, to shed all responsibilities, to float free. Impossible, of course. But when the longing struck him, when he stopped, literally, in his tracks – he was walking down Ludgate Hill at  the time, heading for the tube station – he knew that something he had been resisting for most of his life could be resisted no more. This life is not all there is. This world is not all there is.

Not an intellectual capitulation. There’s no theory to it. Just a sudden acceptance. His response, standing there on Ludgate Hill as the home-going crowds brushed past his motionless figure, was to say to himself: Of course. Once he had let go of his petty insistence that there be answers, which is after all no more than one of the many forms of vanity – for why should he, or anyone, understand such mysteries? – once he had humbled himself, it became easy to surrender. The act of surrender an act of trust, like falling into water. Like falling in love.

Just stop fighting. Just release the controls. Just let go…

…So much now looks different. The injustices of the world, great and small; the apparent futility of human activity; the anxieties that grate on us and make us fretful even in the midst of security and plenty; all can now take their place in an utterly changed landscape. Down in the valley the mist seems to have no end, but from the mountain top it’s no more than a puddle in the land. There is more, so much more. Maybe heaven. Maybe eternity. Maybe God.”

William Nicholson is one of my favourite authors. His bio is below. I share this here, by permission, as I know from experience how difficult is to describe these deeply intimate, personal wonderings of the heart in a way that is meaningful, helpful but without saccharine or prejudice. I think he has done it here magnificently!

I share for those also wondering but not lost – at all…


William Nicholson bio…

William Nicholson was born in 1948, and grew up in Sussex and Gloucestershire. He was educated at Downside School and Christ’s College, Cambridge, and then joined BBC Television, where he worked as a documentary film maker. There his ambition to write, directed first into novels, was channeled into television drama. His plays for television include Shadowlands and Life Story , both of which won the BAFTA Best Television Drama award in their year; other award-winners were Sweet As You Are and The March . In 1988 he received the Royal Television Society’s Writer’s Award. His first play, an adaptation of Shadowlands for the stage, was Evening Standard Best Play of 1990, and went on to a Tony Award winning run on Broadway. He was nominated for an Oscar for the screenplay of the film version, which was directed by Richard Attenborough and starred Anthony Hopkins and Debra Winger.