IT FEELS only proper to admit that life seems absolutely crazy in a vicarage some days. Trying to get on top of the work in hand – all of which seems to spring up on the hour, every hour, the second one arrives back from even the briefest holiday – is like trying to stay upright in an avalanche. No matter how many hours go by it’s a case of one step forward, thirty-seven back. I’m going to have to “call it a day” within the next half hour though. Matchsticks aren’t up to the job these days and I’m feeling plain dazed. And somehow, though I don’t know how, experience reminds me that everything seems to get sorted in the end.  A friend sent me this text from the psalms yesterday (thanks!). Something to quieten the mind as I seek to drop off to sleep. Night …

It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives sleep to his beloved.

Psalm 127 verse 2