Devotions

My Christian Testimony (recorded before 2023).

There are many good Catechisms available. But, somewhere along the line Christians in many parts of the church at large seem to have lost this age old practice of simple instruction in the format of questions and answers. In no way is this little contribution meant to take away from good Catechisms already written, but rather to be a compliment to them. This is a simple way for me to share the good news with others. It is my hope that you the reader or listener may find biblical help from the simplicity of the good news.

"...I don't believe this is a disorder, disease or demon. It is merely a difference, a neurodivergence. If people do wish to pray things away, may it be abelism in our society that they turn the fight against..."

March, April, May Edition

Dear friends in Christ,

​Welcome.

​This space exists for one reason:

love —

the love of God poured out in Jesus Christ,

the love we are called to extend to one another,

and to the world.

​There are many voices clamouring for our attention right now. The world is fast, loud, and full of heavy demands. But here, you will find the rhythm of just one heart seeking to follow the way of Love.

​Welcome to The Muddy Pioneer. This is Episode Zero: How I Walk — An Invitation to the Unhurried Path.

​As a pioneer minister leading a "muddy church" walking fellowship here in Scotland, my ministry doesn't happen behind heavy oak doors, under artificial lights, or within rigid institutional walls. It happens out on the paths, under the open sky, and in the quiet, unpolished spaces of creation. Together, we learn to walk at a slower, more natural pace. This is a faith rooted not in religious tradition for its own sake, but in the living, active, self-giving love at the heart of the Gospel.

​Before we journey together through the seasons down the trail, I wanted to lay out a bit of a Muddy Church manifesto—the three truths that have become my baseline anchors on this path.

​Anchor One: The Living Word

​First, the Living Word. Jesus Christ is God manifest in the flesh. Apart from Him, the true God cannot be fully known. In Jesus, we don't see a God of condemnation or distance; we see the face of a God who is Love, and whose Gospel is the organic path of Peace.

​Anchor Two: The Gift of Grace

​Second, the Gift of Grace. I believe with all my heart that salvation is found by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. To me, this means grace is a total gift — entirely unearned, freely given, and deeply life-changing.

​You do not have to perform here. You do not have to mask your struggles, achieve a certain standard, or pretend to be someone you are not just to be held by God. His grace is as free, open, and unconditional as the fresh air we breathe when we step outside.

​Anchor Three: The Way of Love

​And third, the Way of Love. It is our joy and our calling to follow Him. Though we stumble frequently through our human frailty and our messy lives, our compass remains firmly set toward holiness.

​We simply hold to the Golden Rule: to love God, and to love one another — even our enemies. This is the active, lived, muddy faith that has the power to heal a fractured world.

​These are the pillars of my path. I invite you to sit with them for a moment, perhaps take them on a physical walk today, and ask yourself: how is Love calling you forward right now?

​Beyond the theology, I want to be completely transparent with you. Here are ten things that help define who I am, how I minister, and how I walk through this world:

​I am neurodivergent — Autistic. I see the intricate, beautiful, interconnected patterns of God's creation through a unique lens, and I deeply appreciate low-sensory, quiet spaces where the soul can finally breathe.

​I am a follower of Jesus. He is my North Star — or more accurately, the bright Morning Star.

​I am a seeker of Peace. I stand firmly with the Red Letter Christians and the peacemakers of this world.

​I dwell in Scotland. My faith and my pioneer ministry are deeply nourished by these rugged landscapes, the changing weather, and the ancient paths of the Celtic saints.

​I find the Divine in the ordinary, the muddy, the unpolished, and the overlooked.

​I am a poet. I capture my thoughts, my processing, and my prayers through free verse.

​I work outdoors. My daily life is spent in an outdoor nursery, teaching and learning under the open sky.

​I advocate for the Different — those the world, and too often the conventional church, passes right by.

​I have a deep heart for those with Additional Support Needs, and those who are healing from religious trauma or church hurt.

​I am not always right. I don't have it all figured out. I am still learning, still walking, and still discovering.

​And above all —

above all —

I believe in Love.

​Because God is Love,

and love is where everything

begins

and ends.

​I hope this introduction helps you find your footing here, whether you are listening from a quiet room, sitting on a bench, or catching these words while out on a muddy path somewhere. If your soul is tired, or if you have been rushing for too long, consider this your official invitation to step off the highway and onto the unhurried path.

​Thank you for walking with me today.

​Pax et Bonum — Peace and Good to you.

​I'm David, The Muddy Pioneer.

The Father's Love Letter audio narration has been a huge source of encouragement to many people and has been broadcast on radio stations around the world. Father's Love Letter used by permission Father Heart Communications ©1999 FathersLoveLetter.com

The Practice of the Presence of God Brother Lawrence (1614 - 1691) The Practice of the Presence of God is a collection of letters and transcriptions of conversations, compiled by a disciple of Brother Lawrence. Brother Lawrence was a Carmelite monk and head cook in his monastery's kitchens. He quickly gained an international reputation as a mystic and spiritual counselor. The Practice of the Presence records his last words of advice to his friends and disciples, as he suffered from an unnamed illness which would eventually take his life. (Description written by Kirsten Ferreri.)

(Please note this episode references the previous name of the podcast: Above All Love)

June, July, August Edition

Script:

Above All Love

A Muddy Church Reflection

Episode 1:

🎧 Introduction

You:

"Hello, and welcome back to Above All Love. I’m so glad you’re here with me today.

Today, we’re doing things a little differently. If you are able, I’d love for you to pop your headphones in, put your coat on, and step outside. Find a patch of grass, a local park, or a path into the woods. If you’re at home today and can’t get out, that’s completely okay—just close your eyes and let your imagination walk with me.

As we start, I want you to take a deep breath. Let your shoulders drop. For the next fifteen minutes, you don’t have to achieve anything. You don’t have to prove your worth. You are just here, walking with God—and with the understanding that your good works are already prepared for you by Him."

📖 The Scripture & The Forest Analogy

You:

*"Our focus today is a reminder that we often desperately need to hear, especially when life is heavy and demands are high. It’s from Ephesians 2:8–9:

‘For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.’

If you are walking right now, I want you to pause for a second and look around you at the trees. Look up at the canopy, or down at the grass beneath your boots.

Think about how much effort these trees are putting in right now to exist. They aren’t striving. The oak tree isn’t looking at the pine tree, trying to out-work it. The moss on the stone isn’t panicking about its productivity. They simply rest in the soil, drink the rain, and receive the sunlight that is freely given to them.

They exist by grace. And so do you.

But here’s the beautiful part: while we aren’t saved by works, we are created for good works—works that God has already prepared for us to do. Our striving isn’t to earn love or acceptance; it’s to respond to the love and acceptance we’ve already received. The trees don’t grow to prove themselves; they grow because they’re alive, and in their growth, they become part of something greater. So it is with us."

🍃 The Sensory Practice (Nature Connection)

You:

"Let’s try a little invitation together. I want you to look around you and find something that is completely free and completely effortless—something that doesn’t have to do anything to be itself.

Maybe it’s a fallen leaf on the ground, a smooth stone, or a piece of bark. Pick it up and hold it in your hand. Feel the texture of it.

As you hold that object, remember this: nobody manufactured this leaf to earn its place in the woods. God created it, sustains it, and loves it just as it is. And yet, in its stillness, it plays a part in the ecosystem around it. It shelters insects, decomposes to nourish the soil, or crumbles to become part of the earth again.

We live in a world that tells us we are only valuable if we are working, achieving, or climbing ladders. If you are a carer, if you are neurodivergent, or if you are just exhausted, you might feel like you are constantly failing to do enough. But God says: My grace is a gift. You cannot earn it, and the beautiful news is, you don’t have to. And yet, in your rest, you will find that God has already equipped you to bear fruit—fruit that He has prepared for you to produce, not to prove."

🤔 The Wondering Questions

You:

"As we prepare to walk back or finish our quiet time today, I have two wondering questions for you to carry in your heart as you look at the trees:

Where in your life right now are you trying to ‘work’ for love or acceptance, instead of simply receiving it?

As you look at the woods around you, how does it feel to know that God has already prepared good works for you to do—not as a condition of His love, but as a response to it? He lives in these woods, He lives in your heart, and He loves you exactly as you are."

🙏 Closing Prayer

You:

"Let’s pray together.

Father, thank You that Your love is not a ladder we have to climb. Thank You that we don’t have to jump through hoops to be close to You. As we look at the beauty of Your creation, remind our weary hearts that we are saved by grace, not by our own works. And yet, in our rest, show us the good works You have prepared for us to walk in—works that reflect Your love, Your justice, and Your compassion.

Let us rest in Your soil today, and let us rise to serve from a place of gratitude, not obligation. Amen.

Thank You for joining me for Simply Fellowship. Go gently, enjoy your walk, and I’ll meet you here next time."

​Adapted into Easy English from "What Is Nonresistance?" by Tom Lock. Read by David Holdsworth.

​Where the Word Comes From

​The word "nonresistance" comes directly from the Bible. In the book of Matthew, Jesus says:

​"Do not fight back against someone who does evil to you. If someone hits you on the right cheek, let them hit the other cheek too. If someone takes your coat, give them your jacket as well. Love your enemies. Pray for people who hurt you."

​What Nonresistance Means

​Nonresistance is more than just avoiding fights. It is more than staying calm when someone is cruel to you.

​Nonresistance means:

​Refusing to hurt someone back when they hurt you.

​Trying to do good to all people, in every situation.

​Working toward forgiveness, kindness, and love—always.

​Staying away from all violence, all wars, and all hate.

​Remember: Nonresistance is not about doing nothing. It takes real effort and courage.

​What Martin Luther King Jr. Said

​Dr. King wrote extensively about nonviolent resistance. Here are his key ideas in simple words:

​Fight evil, not people: Nonviolence is a way to fight evil—but without hurting people. You fight against the wrong thing, not against the person doing it.

​The goal is friendship: The goal is not to beat your enemy. The goal is to make them understand you and become your friend.

​Suffer without hitting back: You must be willing to accept suffering without retaliating.

​Choose love over hate: You refuse to hate, not just refuse to fight. Real love is at the heart of nonviolence. This love is for everyone, even your enemies. Dr. King called this agape (a Greek word meaning goodwill toward all people).

​Faith in the future: You believe that in the end, good will win. As Dr. King famously said:

​"The arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

​What Adin Ballou Said

​A man named Adin Ballou wrote a famous book about nonresistance. Here is the heart of what he said, in simple words:

​1. It Comes From Perfect Love

​Nonresistance comes from a deep, perfect love. This love does not ask, "Do they love me back? Have they been kind to me?" It simply says:

​"I will do good. I will love. I will never hurt anyone, even someone who hurts me. I will overcome evil by doing good."

​Jesus showed this kind of love. He taught that your "neighbor"—the person you must love—is everyone. Even strangers. Even enemies.

​2. The Illusion of Force

​Most of the world believes you must use fear and force to stay safe. People trust in armies, weapons, prisons, and punishment to protect them. When someone suggests giving all that up, people get scared and think it is foolish.

​But Ballou says this trust in violence and punishment is a false god. It has caused enormous suffering throughout history. It has never truly made the world safe or good.

​3. A Better Way

​The way of Jesus is different. He teaches that good is the only real answer to evil. You cannot defeat evil by doing more evil. You can only defeat evil by doing good.

​The Rule of Nonresistance: Do not fight injury with injury. Instead, love your neighbor as yourself—always, and with everyone.

​If you haven’t heard of it, Prescribe Nature is an 8-week outdoor wellbeing programme designed for adults who need a little extra support—whether that’s improving mental health, reducing social isolation, or simply building back lost confidence. It’s held in the stunning, peaceful woodlands of Newbattle Abbey College and honestly, the setting alone feels like medicine... This podcast reflects on week 3 of this journey.

​This is a gentle space. No pressure, no performance. You don't need to have your theology sorted to be here. You don't need to feel worthy, or confident, or certain of your standing before God.

​You're welcome exactly as you are, wherever you are reading this — carrying whatever you carry, however long you've been carrying it.

​If you need to read slowly, or stop and come back — that's completely fine. There's no right way to be here. Just be here.

​Hymn

​We begin with a hymn verse. Read it slowly. You might want to sit with each line before moving on.

​Not the labours of my hands

Can fulfil thy law's demands;

Could my zeal no respite know,

Could my tears for ever flow,

All for sin could not atone;

Thou must save, and thou alone.

​— Augustus Toplady, Rock of Ages

​Prayer

​Gracious God,

​Thank you that you do not ask us to earn what we could never afford.

​Thank you that the verdict you speak over us in Christ — righteous, beloved, accepted — is not a verdict we worked for, or argued our way to, or deserved by any accumulation of effort or goodness.

​We confess that we still reach for the scorecard sometimes. We still half-believe that we must do something more, be something more, before we are truly welcome.

​Meet us today in the gap between what we have done and what you have done. Let the love of Christ cover it.

​And may we leave this time knowing — not just in our heads, but somewhere deeper — that the gift is already given, and our hands are simply asked to be open.

​Amen.

​Old Testament Anchor

​Before Paul writes his great argument in Romans, a voice from the wilderness of Israel's own history had already heard the same word.

​"Come, everyone who is thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which does not satisfy?"

​— Isaiah 55:1–2 (ESV)

​This is the heartbeat underneath the whole gospel. The invitation is to those who have nothing. Not those who have almost enough, or who are nearly ready. Those who have no money. Those who are hungry without the means to feed themselves.

​The question that cuts is this: why do you labour for that which does not satisfy?

​Why do you keep reaching for something that will not hold? Why work for a righteousness that will always fall a little short, that will always leave you wondering if you have quite done enough?

​There is bread here. It costs nothing. That is not a bargain — it is a gift.

​Scripture

​Our reading today is from Romans chapter three, verses twenty-two to twenty-eight, from the Easy English Bible.

​"God makes people right with himself. He does this through faith in Jesus Christ. He does it for everyone who believes. All people have done wrong things and have fallen short of God's glory. God is kind to us. He does not give us what we deserve. He makes us right with himself as a free gift. Jesus Christ set us free from the power of wrong things. God offered Jesus as a gift. Through his blood, Jesus became the way for God to forgive our sins. God did this to show that he is right and fair. In the past, he had been patient and had not punished people for their wrong things. Now he shows that he is right and fair. He is right himself and he makes right any person who has faith in Jesus. So there is nothing for us to be proud of. Faith does not let us be proud. No! We must be right with God because of faith. This is the law of faith. We believe, then, that God makes people right with himself. He does not do this because they obey the law. He does it because they have faith."

​Devotion

​There is a question every human heart has asked, in one form or another, since the very beginning: Am I good enough?

​It shows up in different ways. The rich young man came to Jesus and asked: What good thing must I do to have eternal life? The Philippian jailer, rattled and undone by earthquake and grace, asked Paul and Silas: What must I do to be saved?

​Both questions are really the same question. They are the sound of a soul that believes the door must be earned.

​Paul, in these verses from Romans, is doing something extraordinary. He is not simply answering the question — he is dismantling the premise.

​The question assumes that righteousness is something we produce and present. That it is like currency: we accumulate it through obedience, through religion, through moral effort, through keeping the law. And if we have enough of it, God will count us in.

​Paul says: no. That is not how this works. That has never been how this works.

​All have sinned, and fall short. That is not a verdict delivered with contempt. It is a statement of shared human condition. It is the level ground at the foot of the cross. No one arrives with surplus. No one negotiates from a position of strength. We all come empty-handed.

​And it is precisely to empty hands that the gift is offered.

​Paul uses several words worth holding for a moment:

​Justified — the word of the courtroom. To be justified is to be declared righteous by the judge. Not reformed, not improved, not given a suspended sentence. Declared righteous. The verdict spoken over you is not "guilty but forgiven" — it is righteous in Christ. The robe Paul speaks of elsewhere, the righteousness of Christ, is placed on the shoulders of the undeserving, just as the father in the parable threw his best cloak around the shoulders of the returning son before a word of explanation had been given.

​Redeemed — the word of the marketplace. To be redeemed is to be bought back, purchased out of the place where you were bound. And the price paid was not your own striving. It was the blood of Christ. You did not work your way out of the debt. Someone else settled it.

​Propitiation — the difficult word, the one Paul does not apologise for. It means a sacrifice that satisfies the just requirement. Because the offence against a holy God is real. Sin is not a minor administrative error. It requires an answer. And the answer the gospel gives is staggering: God, in Christ, provides the sacrifice himself. The judge descends from the bench. The holy one enters the condemned place. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

​This is the justice of the cross. Not that God looked away from sin. Not that he pretended it did not matter. But that in the death of His Son, the full weight of human sin was met — and met by Love.

​Paul then asks the question that has been building: Where is boasting then?

​It is a sharp, knowing question. Because human beings love to boast. We boast in nationality. In ancestry. In achievement. In religious performance. The Pharisee in the temple stood and listed his credentials before God: I fast twice a week. I give a tenth of everything. He was not lying. He had done these things. But he had confused the keeping of a ledger with the receiving of a gift.

​Boasting, says Paul, is excluded. Not because we have been told to be humble, but because the structure of grace leaves nothing to boast in. You did not earn this. The robe was given before you asked. The ring was on your finger before your speech was finished. The gift was complete before you arrived.

​And so the conclusion — a person is justified by faith, apart from works of the law — is not a cold theological formula. It is the most liberating sentence in the world to anyone who has been exhausted by the effort of trying to be good enough.

​Faith is not itself the achievement. Faith is simply the open hand. The hand that stops trying to manufacture what it cannot produce and receives what is freely given.

​The rich young ruler went away sad, because he had great wealth and could not imagine leaving it — including the wealth of his own moral record. The Philippian jailer fell to his knees, in the ruins of his certainties, and asked with nothing in his hands. And Paul and Silas said to him: Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.

​Just that. Just faith. Just the open hand, the turned face, the willingness to receive.

​The gift is already given. The price is already paid. The verdict is already spoken.

​Our only boast is in the cross.

​Wondering Questions

​These aren't questions that need answers. They're just things to hold and sit with. You might want to pause here, step away from the screen for a few minutes, and let them settle.

​I wonder what it would feel like to truly stop trying to earn what has already been given — and whether there is a part of me still reaching for the scorecard?

​I wonder what Paul meant by the empty hands of faith — and what it actually takes to open them?

​I wonder about the rich young man who went away sad, and what it was he could not let go of?

​I wonder what the difference is between knowing that salvation is a free gift and living as if it is?

​I wonder whether I have ever confused religious effort with trust — and whether God minds the confusion as much as I do?

​I wonder what it would mean today, in practice, to let my only boast be the cross?

​A Query

​(In the spirit of the Quaker tradition)

​Is there a righteousness I have been quietly accumulating — counting up, presenting, relying on — that I have not yet been willing to lay down at the foot of the cross?

​A Moment of Quiet

​Before you read on, you might like to pause here.

​Close your eyes, or look out of a window.

​There's no rush. Just rest for a moment.

​An Invitation

​Before you go — a quiet word.

​If you have spent a long time trying to be good enough — working, striving, measuring yourself against others or against an imagined standard — this passage was written for you. Not to condemn the effort, but to relieve it. The door is not locked waiting for you to produce the right key. The door is already open, and the One who opened it is standing there, not asking what you have brought.

​If you want to respond to that today, you might simply say, in your own words or in the quiet of your heart:

​I have nothing to offer. I have no case to make. I come with open hands. I believe in Jesus, and I receive the gift.

​And if you already walk in this grace, and have for many years — perhaps there is still a corner of your heart where the old scorecard lives. Where you wonder, quietly, if you have done enough, been enough, prayed enough. The gospel says to that corner, too: It is finished. Come home.

​The gift is not for the deserving.

It was never for the deserving.

It is for the ones with open hands.

​Going Out

​Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

​May you carry today the strange lightness

of one who has been told the debt is paid

and has, against all habit, believed it.

​May the word justified settle in you —

not as doctrine only, but as news,

good news,

the best news you have ever heard.

​May you stop, just for today,

trying to earn what love has already given.

​And may your only boast

be the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ —

in whom all the fullness of grace has come to meet us,

with nothing required but an open hand.

​Above all, love.

Amen.

​Thank you for being here. Above all, love.