The power of one life.
The death of one person can send ripples far beyond what we often imagine. For those left behind, grief can be overwhelming, and unanswered questions may linger for years. This is particularly true in cases of suicide, where families and communities may struggle with confusion, guilt, and heartbreak. I spent a day this month on a ‘Suicide First Aid’ course which reinforced what many of us know, these tragic losses are far more common than we would hope. Suicide First Aid training is increasingly recognised as an essential skill. It empowers individuals to spot signs of distress, listen with compassion, and provide vital support in moments of crisis. Through such training, we learn that simply reaching out can be lifesaving. A kind word, a moment of listening, or a gentle question like, "Are you feeling overwhelmed?" can offer a path away from darkness and despair. One life saved in this way becomes a precious reminder that our presence in each other's lives carries immense significance.
This truth echoes powerfully when we reflect on the death of Jesus Christ. His disciples, like anyone grieving a lost loved one, were devastated by His passing. In their fear and confusion, they hid away, uncertain of what the future held. Yet Jesus’s death was not the end of the story; rather, it was the beginning of hope for all humanity. The resurrection transformed their grief into joy and their despair into courage. The disciples, who had once fled in fear, emerged as bold messengers of Christ’s victory over sin and death. Their transformed lives testify to the extraordinary impact that one life — and one sacrifice — can have on the world. Jesus' death was unique because it was not simply an act of injustice or tragedy; it was an intentional gift of love. By willingly offering His life, Jesus bore the weight of humanity’s brokenness. His resurrection stands as a powerful testament that no darkness, no loss, and no grief is beyond the reach of God's redeeming power. At Easter, we are reminded that Jesus' death and resurrection bring us hope. Just as suicide first aid training equips to recognise the signs of someone struggling, the message of Easter equips us to recognise that no one is beyond hope. The risen Christ invites us to embrace the promise that no matter how deep our sorrow, God’s love offers new life, restoration, and peace. This Easter let us also be reminded that, in our own lives, one compassionate word or action can make a life-changing difference. May we be inspired by Christ’s sacrifice to reach out to those in need, offering hope to the hopeless and comfort to the grieving.
For those struggling with suicidal thoughts or for those supporting someone in crisis, know that you are not alone. Just as Jesus rose to bring light to a dark world, hope can arise even from the most painful of circumstances.
Find out more about Suicide First Aid


Guarding the Vineyard: Chasing Away the Little Foxes
Well, that is another Valentine’s Day successfully navigated—no awkward last-minute trips to the supermarket. I remembered the card and everything! Now I just need to remember our dating anniversary, our wedding anniversary, and, of course, Jen’s birthday. These may seem like little things, but they are incredibly important. Relationships, whether romantic, familial, or friendships, need careful tending. Relationships, like vineyards, flourish when nurtured with care but can be easily damaged by small, creeping threats. There is a story in the bible about foxes that do just that in Song of Songs we read, “Catch the foxes for us—the little foxes that ruin the vineyards—for our vineyards are in bloom.” This poetic but unexpected caution serves as a profound metaphor for the small issues that, left unchecked, can erode even the strongest bonds.
Often, it’s not grand betrayals or dramatic conflicts that cause relationships to wither, but the accumulation of minor slights, criticisms, and neglect. A little gossip, a little ingratitude, a little lack of attention—these things can seem insignificant on their own, but over time, they undermine trust and affection. The little foxes sneak in through our words, our actions, and even our silence. Criticism can creep into our conversations so easily. A casual remark about a spouse’s forgetfulness, a co-worker’s inefficiency, or a friend’s habits—when repeated, these comments chip away at the foundation of respect and appreciation. Similarly, gossip, though often disguised as harmless discussion, can sow discord and create unnecessary divisions. In today's digital world, social media often amplifies negativity, making it even easier for small grievances to spiral into division.
The enemy of relationships isn’t always hatred; often, it’s complacency. If we are not careful, the little foxes of neglect, resentment, and selfishness can slip in unnoticed. But just as Song of Solomon calls us to catch these foxes, we are called to actively protect our relationships. To protect our relationships and ourselves, we must be vigilant. We must identify where negativity takes root and make a conscious effort to replace it with proactive behaviours and actions. As 1 Corinthians 13 reminds us, love is patient, kind, and does not keep a record of wrongs. It requires deliberate action—choosing kindness over criticism, gratitude over entitlement, and connection over isolation.
Practicing love in everyday life means watching our words and ensuring they build up rather than tear down. It means making time for those we care about, even when life is busy. It means noticing and appreciating the little things—a thoughtful gesture, a shared laugh, a moment of support. These acts of love strengthen relationships and prevent small grievances from festering into larger issues.
I wonder what the effect on our families, friendships, and communities would be if we were intentional about cultivating positive relationships. Let’s chase away the little foxes by speaking life, extending grace, and showing appreciation. In doing so, we allow love to flourish, creating relationships that are resilient, joyful, and protected.
