One line in this one has stuck with me more than anything else.

My understanding is that you can't. The golden rule in so many walks of life is a variation on "Love Thy Neighbour", which gets more focus than "As you love yourself." If you don't know how to love you well, I'm not sure I want you to love me in the same way. Or if you think you can love me as your neighbour, I want you to be able to love yourself in the same way.

Anti-heroes are complicated and misunderstood... And I find them fascinating!
Are they heroes?
Don't they kind of look a lot like the villain?
Do the ends really justify the means?

A while ago I did a podcast with a friend of mine thinking about the "Black Adam" film and theology, and I talked a bit about anti-heroes there.

But what about me?

There's a degree of pressure on us when we do that.

To “hold a mirror up to" is a phrase meaning “to take a look at oneself objectively to examine or reflect on things (issues) stemming from the reality of reflection; to reveal to someone about the way they look (differently) to the rest of the world (so that they can reflect upon themselves); expose, show up, bring to light (some (unpleasant) aspects to oneself)”.

Community done badly holds up images of the ideal alongside the mirror and tells us all the ways we don't measure up.

Sometimes songs just get an "AMEN!"

This is one of those. And I think it speaks for itself as a song... I'm not sure what I can add!

Anyone else feel it?

Human kind has been on a journey round light:
We sat round a fire and told stories as communities and clans;
We moved indoors and read stories around the fireplace, or listened to them on the radio;
The radio got replaced by the television and we continued to have less responsibility in telling the story, though we were all still pointing in the same direction;
Nowadays the TV is still in the corner of the living room, and the seats still point towards it, and it ever continues to burn out a light and tell stories, but whilst it tells its stories I tune it out and disappear into the light of the screen in my hand. It tells stories, paints pictures and shows things to me. I experience them alone, along with millions of other people, and occasionally I send them to other people on social media so that they too can enjoy them alone.

I was on my way to a meeting somewhere new. The sat nav suggested I could either turn left or go straight. I went left because that looked like the more fun option. As I happily drove down the road I came across a work-horse pick-up truck doing a three-point turn in the road to avoid going through the ford. I ignored the signs and kept going. It was fun, it was deeper than it could have been, and my car miraculously made it through (even managing to be cleaner!). It was a win-win really, but it could have been expensive... Especially if it had been deeper and faster flowing.

The better option would have been to have carried on straight along the other route, or to have turned around before I got there. A less dangerous option would have been a bridge, or to wait until the ford was lower.

"I Do."
No caveat.
No grudge.
Not feeling like I have to, but because I want to and more than that, that I have the privilege to... I GET to... And I am free to!

That is the feeling that I had when I got married. I didn't feel like I had to say I do, but I really wanted to. And I knew the potential and privilege of it.

I wonder if that's the same thing when we are asked to say "I do" at things like church services, when we sign up to things in life?
Do we see the opportunity and potential excitement, or are we just saying it because we have to?

Because when we say it we open ourselves up to a whole lot more... What more could we get ourselves into?

I was late to the game catching up with "Wakanda Forever", and I've already had Rihanna's "Lift me up" from the film in this series... The reality is that it was a brilliant film, with a powerful soundtrack.

I could have picked a whole host of songs that carried emotions and enhanced what was going on in the film, and the reality of a sequel without its leading man due to Chadwick Boseman's absence.

That funeral scene at the start was raw. I wonder how many of those tears were real, how much of the ritual we see was created for him by people who wanted to celebrate him in their own way?

This song, ​"Alone" plays as Wakanda prepares to take the fight to Talokan following Namor's flooding of the capital city and his murder of Queen Ramonda.