We are at the midday of the year, the Angelus bells are ringing and we are called to sit with the Virgin Mary as she enters her eternal rest. It is good.

With fingers deep in the mud we ponder the greenness of the daily and the doctrine of the Trinity.  

On the Feast of the Ascension we must look up and gaze upon the vastness of the true blue of sky; and so we will, and we will speak of how the Word was made flesh in one place and time and ascended into heaven which fills all space and all time.   

The lenten winter is over and now we sing hymns of the resurrection and feel the warm breeze on our cheeks. We need to speak of what the resurrection inaugurates; time has been pierced by eternity and now faith, hope and love are inhabitable. And hope is the bloom...

It is the pinnacle of the Christian year and in this letter Kirsten speaks of the way which the drama Holy Week is purposed to draw the adherent and the seeker deeper into the love song of  the Trinity in order that our lives might be shaped by it. The energy of spring sings its own part in this glorious music.

In this letter Kirsten reveals the centrality of mercy in our Lenten Pilgrimage and wonders at the way blue skies teach us what we need to know about the height and breadth of the same.

The feast of Christmas is come and gone for another year and we are set down in the daily life of a January Winter. In this letter Kirsten reckons with the speechless message of frozen lakes and newborn stars and probes the invitation to hear and receive the epiphanies all around us. 

This letter is a short, stream of consciousness, poem-like thing. A meditation to inspire going out into the darkest night before the beginning of the feast. 

In this letter Kirsten is taken in by the narrative potency of the Advent Lessons and Carol Service. She effuses about the nature and expansive beauty of the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures using many metaphors and possibly mixing them. 

In this letter bright red birds sit in trees and epiphanies incite a profound longing to chase wisdom.  Kirsten explores the lost tradition of the Martimas fast which the King's College Chapel seems to remember, and writes about what spiritual discipline has to do with a longing filled pursuit of truth.