I am always struck by other people’s faith. I feel my own is so small and limited – often more intellectualised than real – that I often envy how other people experience Jesus. I guess it is always easier looking in from the outside. And people tell you what they want you to hear. But I have seen real faith in my life – people living sacrificial love for Jesus and their neighbour.

But this morning it struck me: all these people are sent to me as a witness. A witness of what it means to follow Jesus. A witness of faithfulness. Not that they are better than me – which, of course, they are. But rather that I am not alone in this journey. I am not walking by myself. Yes, in the end, I give account for my life alone before the throne of grace. But at this very moment in time, I am given the strength of witnesses to Jesus.