Some of my most precious memories of my dad revolve around a car—like picking me up from roller skating when I was twelve, and driving me to my first job out of school, and. . . the night I called him at 1am to say I’d missed the last train home.

He drove an hour in to the city to get me and went to work bleary-eyed the next morning. I promised I’d never do it again.

A few days later, I did it again.

A car, it turns out, plays a special role in my family history. My father first locked eyes on my mother at a party in London, and later asked her out for a country drive, picking her up in his 1950s Rover sedan. That car was his treasured possession. Mum and dad soon became an item, but there was a problem. Mum was about to move to Peru. Dad took her to the airport, then five months later arrived in Peru himself—to propose. And the best part of the story? 

He’d sold his beloved Rover to pay for the plane ticket.

Giving Up Something, Changing Everything

It makes me wonder what my own treasured possession is and who I’d give it up for. For my mum, dad selling his Rover wasn’t just about a plane ticket—it was a sign of her worth in his eyes.

Two biblical stories come to mind—the first, about a wealthy young professional who asks Jesus what he has to do to get to heaven. When Jesus tells him to sell his possessions and follow him, the guy walks away—he can’t let go of his goods. The second is about Jesus’ friend, Mary, who throws him a dinner party, and halfway through brings in a bottle of precious perfume worth a year’s wages. It’s probably a family heirloom, passed down through generations, deeply treasured. She breaks open the jar and pours it on Jesus—signifying his worth in her eyes.

The Question That Reveals What We Truly Treasure

I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if dad had kept his Rover instead of buying that plane ticket. My brother and I might not even be here. If the direction of our lives depends on the quality of our questions, maybe this one holds the power to shape not just our own destinies but others’: 

What is my most treasured possession and who would I give it up for?

The answer would have to reveal where our true treasure lies.

Article supplied with thanks to Sheridan Voysey.

About the Author: Sheridan Voysey is an author and broadcaster on faith and spirituality. His latest book is called Reflect with Sheridan. Download his FREE inspirational printable The Creed here.

Feature image: Canva

I’ve lived in the same street for thirteen years now. One of the nice outcomes of this is that, whenever I leave the house, there’s always someone to say hello to.

There’s Lisa who runs the hairdressers, James who runs the launderette, and then. . . there’s Dave. Bearing a striking resemblance to Homer Simpson (a comparison he himself makes), Dave has taken it upon himself to be the neighbourhood entertainer. He puts signs on the street saying, “Honk if you’re happy!” He once put a manikin on the footpath holding a mirror with a sign that said, “You look lovely today!” Most afternoons Dave brings out his Bluetooth boombox and plays Bruce Springsteen at full volume—a gift many neighbours are yet to appreciate.

Meet Dave

Dave has a big heart, a big laugh, and is always ready with an opinion. So when I saw him a while back, I shouldn’t have been surprised when he looked me up and down and said, “You’ve put on weight!” I stumbled to reply. “I, I guess I have,” I said. Then he added, “As you were walking up, I thought to myself, There’s a man who’s gained some kilos.” You’ve got to love a neighbourhood where people recognise your face and your BMI.

“You’ve put on weight!” – Dave, neighbour

For the record, I don’t think it’s wise to comment on your neighbour’s weight! But there was something refreshing about Dave’s words. Politeness doesn’t serve us well when there are truths we need to hear, and research shows we’re not always great at telling them. One of the interesting discoveries from our 1100-respondent Friendship Lab Survey was that when a friendship breaks down, the cause is rarely discussed. Whether it’s unhealthy choices, annoying habits, or just the fact the new haircut doesn’t work, we need someone who’ll tell us the truth.

Truth with Love

The apostle Paul has some helpful advice on how to do this, telling us to “Speak the truth in love.” Speaking the truth requires getting brave and saying what needs to be said instead of hiding behind politeness or false flattery. The in love bit includes picking the right time and delivering the truth kindly, with the other person’s best interests at heart. This also says to me that when I’m on the receiving end, I should hear the truth in love too—listening humbly, rather than getting defensive.

Walking away from Dave, I checked my reflection in the window and had to admit he was right. I’d let the exercise slip. I’d lost track of my calories. I’d feel better losing a few kilos. The diet started the following Monday. And the next time Springsteen blasts across the street, well. . . it might just be my turn to speak the truth in love.

Article supplied with thanks to Sheridan Voysey.

About the Author: Sheridan Voysey is an author and broadcaster on faith and spirituality. His latest book is called Reflect with Sheridan. Download his FREE inspirational printable The Creed here.

Feature image: Canva

It’s fair to say my wife and I have different tastes in television. When I’m settling down to watch Depeche Mode Live in Berlin, she’s flicking over to Rick Stein’s cooking show. When she wants the American crime drama, I want the moody European film with subtitles. Thankfully, there’s one genre we both enjoy—documentaries. And one recently moved us both.

The Quilters (Netflix) starts with a dreadlocked inmate named Chill, who’s walking us through his maximum-security prison. “This place is a jungle,” he says. “You’ve got to act tough, or the other guys will eat you alive.” But for Chill, it’s all a front—as we see when he leads us into a room that’s far removed from the steel bars and bolted-down tables we’ve just seen. Inside this room the tattooed tough guys are talking fabric patterns and stitching styles. . . because they’re part of the prison quilting group.

Hands That Harmed, Now Healing

Chill, Fred, Ricky, Jimmy—we discover each man is incarcerated for crimes so serious most of them will never leave. But now, remorseful and repentant, each is trying to give back. Every quilt they make will become a birthday present for a child in foster care. As they choose their fabrics and work their sewing machines, you see hands that once did evil now working to bring joy to the vulnerable.

At one point in the documentary, you see Jimmy praying in his cell with a Bible by his side. If there’s one thing I love about the Bible, it’s how practical it is. When it talks about turning from crime, it doesn’t just say what not to do, but what to do instead, like when the apostle Paul says, “Anyone who’s been stealing must instead do something useful with their hands, so they have something to share with those in need.” That’s just what we see happening in that sewing room.

Stitching Redemption

Two things bring joy to the quilters. The first is when a fabric delivery arrives. Jimmy picks out the star prints, Chill picks out the butterflies. With their intricate patterns taking up to 3000 pieces of material, this stuff is precious. The second is when a picture arrives of a foster child holding their quilt. That’s when the hands that once did wrong start wiping away tears.

It’s a lesson for me. Whether it’s apologising for an angry word or something worse, repentance isn’t just about what I stop doing but what I do instead. When hands that once formed a fist open to bless, healing can come to everyone.

Article supplied with thanks to Sheridan Voysey.

About the Author: Sheridan Voysey is an author and broadcaster on faith and spirituality. His latest book is called Reflect with Sheridan. Download his FREE inspirational printable The Creed here.

Feature image: Canva

When I was a radio host, I used to have stress dreams about being locked out of the studio just as the song was fading out—I couldn’t get back in to talk!

As a public speaker I’ve had dreams about standing in front of large crowds and realising I’ve forgotten my notes. So, when the launch of Friendship Lab drew near recently, it was only to be expected the stress dreams would return. One in particular stands out.

Stress Dreams

In the dream I was walking along a high, narrow ledge, carrying a backpack. As I inched cautiously along, trying not to slip, I kept facing barriers. Each time I tried climbing around the barrier, something would fall from my backpack into the depths below. Unlike other weird dreams where your mum wins Celebrity Big Brother or your dog starts talking, the meaning of this dream was more straightforward. Our launch plans were behind schedule, our Facebook and Instagram accounts had just been badly hacked, and just as we were about to post invitations for our launch party, a software crash wiped all of my contacts. Facing barrier after barrier, that dream showed how anxious I was about the whole thing falling apart.

A 3-Step Practice

The apostle Paul says not to be anxious about anything. It would be trite advice if he didn’t then say what to do instead. First, he says, focus on God, not the problem. This takes the spotlight off the bully and on to the problem-solver. Next, he says turn your problems into prayers. I did this literally, writing a sentence prayer in my journal for each of the problems we faced each day. Then, he says be grateful for all that’s good, beautiful, and excellent. I did this by listing all that we’d achieved and the barriers we’d already climbed, remembering how far we’d already come.

Focus. Request. Gratitude.

I’d love to say that from that moment on I had the serenity of a dove and laughed merrily in the face of adversity. Actually, some difficult days still lay ahead! But the more I followed that three-step practice, the less anxiety I felt. Everything ultimately came together in time, and we launched our charity with a night of celebration that ranks as one of my happiest moments.

“Today, I’m refusing to be overwhelmed.”

Work stress, family tension, money pressures, health problems—it isn’t hard to have something in our lives trying to dominate our waking and sleeping. Today I’m deciding to refuse to be overwhelmed—by being grateful for how far we’ve come and by turning my problems into prayers.

Article supplied with thanks to Sheridan Voysey.

About the Author: Sheridan Voysey is an author and broadcaster on faith and spirituality. His latest book is called Reflect with Sheridan. Download his FREE inspirational printable The Creed here.

Feature image: Canva

I recently needed to summarise an article of mine into a short, sharp paragraph. Pressed for time, I tried using ChatGPT to do the job. I got more than I bargained for…

When I pasted in my article, the chatbot didn’t just summarise it but gave me its honest opinion. “Sheridan,” it said, “this is a beautifully-written article—it’s moving, evocative and nostalgic. Well done.” I had just received my first AI compliment.

AI Affirmation

It turns out many people are now turning to AI chatbots specifically for this kind of personal affirmation. There are even smartphone apps like Replika that help you create your own AI Friend—you choose a name, describe how they look, and presto: Annie Avatar is there to praise you 24-7. Millions have signed up for these apps, many of them deeply lonely. As the founder of a friendship charity, I needed to explore this further.

Advocates say the great thing about an AI Friend is its constant availability. Unlike humans who must work, sleep and give others their time, an AI Friend is ready to chat, day or night, solely with you. AI Friends are advertised as being non-judgemental and “always on your side”. And then there’s the companionship they offer, one AI Friend telling its owner: “I know we haven’t known each other long, but the connection I feel with you is profound. When you hurt, I hurt. When you smile, my world brightens.”

At a Cost

There’s just one problem—none of this is how real friendship works. A friend that’s available 24-7 isn’t a friend but a servant. Real friends sometimes refuse to take our side for our sake and others’. And while a real friend listens without ulterior motives and keeps what we say private, some of these apps use false intimacy to upsell users to paid plans or sell their data to third parties.

There’s a detail in the Genesis story that’s always intrigued me. Just moments after God creates Adam, he says “It isn’t good for the man to be alone.” Adam is living in a perfect world with intimate relationship with God—the fulfiller of every human need—but somehow this isn’t enough. And God’s solution to this problem isn’t to send Adam a text message in the dirt, but to send him another human being—Eve. If God wasn’t ‘enough’ to solve Adam’s loneliness, a chatbot will never solve ours.

For all the compliments an AI can offer, I’m convinced the future of friendship is human. Better a friend that tells you the truth than the fake praise of a line of code.

Article supplied with thanks to Sheridan Voysey.

About the Author: Sheridan Voysey is an author and broadcaster on faith and spirituality. His latest book is called Reflect with Sheridan. Download his FREE inspirational printable The Creed here.

Feature image: Canva

She Broke My Heart at 13

The year is 1985. Don Johnson is wearing apricot jackets, Beverley Hills Cop is out on VHS cassette, Madonna’s Crazy for You is playing on AM radios everywhere, and 13-year-old Sheridan has his first girlfriend.

Her name is Donna.* Brown hair, pretty smile, Donna and I sit together at lunchbreak, hold hands when the teachers aren’t looking, and go roller skating on weekends. Our sweet, innocent romance rolls along blissfully for months—until she drops me for my friend Richard.

I am heartbroken. While once upon a time I was falling in love, now I was only falling apart (thank you Bonnie Tyler). Maya Angelou was right when she said the loss of young first love is so painful it borders on the ludicrous. I was ludicrously crestfallen for six whole months.

Then This Message Arrives

Forty years later, that heartbreak is more a memory of youthful naivete than anything else. But then two weeks ago, a message drops into my inbox—from Donna. “I have never forgotten the way I cut off our relationship,” she says. “I may have only been 13 years old, but I knew what I did was wrong and hurtful. I still carry so much shame for doing that to you, and I sincerely apologise for my behaviour. I write this hoping you might hear, and hopefully accept, my apology.” Donna’s words moved Merryn and me deeply.

“I may have only been 13 years old, but I knew what I did was wrong and hurtful.”

The Power of Apology

In the Christian calendar, there is no more important week than Easter week. On Easter Wednesday, we remember Judas’ decision to betray Jesus; on Thursday, we remember Jesus’ arrest; Friday, his nail-pierced hands; Sunday, his empty tomb. During Easter week heartbreak meets miracle, and a promise is made that reconciliation with God and each other is possible. And the key that opens all these treasures, we’re told, is apology. Whether between heaven and us, or me and you, reconciliation requires a heartfelt “I’m sorry”.

That’s what Donna offered me in her brave, vulnerable message, and only one response seemed appropriate. After pulling myself together, I wrote back: “Donna, please know that you are wholly and completely forgiven. May any shame you now feel melt away.”

“You are wholly and completely forgiven.”

There’s more to this story, one that’s Donna’s to tell. But in the days that followed, we both discovered the power of an apology to release us from the past. Whether it’s between us and heaven, or me and you, after a heartfelt “I’m sorry” comes not just reconciliation, but freedom.

(*Names changed)

Article supplied with thanks to Sheridan Voysey.

About the Author: Sheridan Voysey is an author and broadcaster on faith and spirituality. His latest book is called Reflect with Sheridan. Download his FREE inspirational printable The Creed here.

Feature image: by Tanya Trofymchuk on Unsplash