Not Everything has a Burning Fuse

At the end of my recent walk along the West Highland Way, on the last evening a few of us watched the new Mission Impossible film.
In these kinds of films someone’s always defusing a bomb with seconds to spare, racing down hallways, jumping off cliffs, and generally saving the world on an impossible deadline.
The opening titles usually have the iconic burning fuse racing across the screen, a powerful visual metaphor for everything at stake and as usual time is running out – fast!
It’s gripping and fun too, but it also got me thinking.
In real life, we all face true emergencies now and then. Medical issues. Financial crises. Family needs. Things that demand immediate action. These moments matter, and responding well to them can change everything.
But here’s the thing: most of life isn’t lived in “burning fuse” mode.
Or at least—it shouldn’t be.
Some of the most important things in our lives don’t come with dramatic music or countdown clocks.
They just sit quietly, waiting. You can ignore them for a while and nothing seems to happen. But procrastinate long enough, and you’ll feel the consequences!
For instance, recently the engineer arrived to service our gas boiler. If we forgot to do that year after year, then eventually the system would fail.
Or think about regular health checkups, saving for retirement, spending time with your family, or nurturing a friendship. These aren’t emergencies. Not yet at least. But they really matter.
CS Lewis said:
“The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.”
We’re all moving through time at the same speed.
The difference lies in how we use it.
Are we constantly reacting to what’s urgent, or are we giving time to what’s important?
So, the challenge is this: Don’t wait for the burning fuse.
Pay attention to the stuff that doesn’t blow up when ignored—but shapes everything in the long run.
What might fall apart later if it keeps being ignored today?

Front Row Seats

In May 2023, I found myself in Frankfurt, Germany, at a Europe Central Area Leadership Meeting.
Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles was presiding, and leaders from across Europe gathered for instruction.
As we arrived, we quietly took our seats toward the rear of the chapel, but Elder Bednar had other ideas.
As he began, he invited those sitting at the back to come forward.
“Come closer,” he said.
And so, a little reluctantly, we did.
We moved toward the front right row. Then, Elder Bednar gestured again, “No,” he signalled. “Right here, in the front row.”
We moved again, and I found myself sitting directly in front of him, within touching distance, 2 metres away, for the next 4 hours.
Something happened.
Time and again, he made direct eye contact with me (he has brown ones – like my own).
Again and again, it felt as though he was speaking not 𝒂𝒕 me—but 𝒕𝒐 me.
The doctrine, the invitations, the Spirit—everything felt really personal.
He wasn’t just addressing a group of leaders.
In those moments, it felt like he was addressing 𝐦𝐞.

Reflections

Since that day, I’ve reflected on what it meant to be invited to the front row, not only physically, but spiritually too.
In recent years, President Russell M. Nelson said, “We have 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 to witness live what the prophets anciently only envisioned.” Later he also said, “Do you see what is happening right before our eyes?”
We’re not in the balcony seats. We’re not watching a recording later.
As the work of salvation hastens, we have front-row seats as witnesses to the troubling times of the last days prior to the second coming of Jesus Christ—and it’s all happening “𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.”
To see more clearly, some of us may have to move closer.
We’re not just spectators—we’re participants.
There’s something unforgettable about a front-row seat.
You see things others miss.
You feel the energy.
You can’t look away.
Because when we choose to come closer, the Saviour meets our eyes, and nothing is ever quite the same again.
Will you stay at the back, or will you move to the front row seats?

The Final Scene of our 96 mile expedition

On our last evening after walking the full West Highland Way, just the four of us remained.
We wrapped things up in Fort William with a trip to the cinema to see the latest Mission Impossible film, a fitting choice, since parts of this trek really did feel impossible!
This is my final post about the walk, and one last chance to support Mary’s Meals before I close the project on July 1st.
Not only did we complete our great challenge, we also managed to raise a few thousand pounds for an amazing charity together.
If you’ve been meaning to donate, here’s the link: https://www.marysmeals.org.uk/fundraising…
Everyone of us who participated, despite the hardships, truly loved it!
Yes, even the rain, midges, ticks and gale force winds all added to the fun! 😆
I’d recommend the walk, to anyone, but you need to be a wee bit mad to do it too!
I think it was one of the greatest adventures of my life and to be with such great friends was simply awesome.
Huge thanks to everyone who supported us along the way. You helped make every step count.

Come What May

Last night Monic and I went to the cinema and really enjoyed watching the new “How to Train Your Dragon” movie.
A simple phrase uttered by the main character, Hiccup, landed with me.
“𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒚…”
Facing a challenge much bigger than himself, he didn’t run or retreat.
He stood tall, uncertain but unwavering, and chose to press ahead at a moment of great difficulty.
He didn’t have all the answers, but he had great conviction.
And the path wasn’t an easy one, but it was the right one.
That moment and the phrase is still with me this morning.
It reminded me that we all face dragons, challenges that test our resolve, our faith, our identity.
But “come what may” is more than a line in a movie, it’s a quiet anthem of trust in something greater.
In my personal study this morning I decided to reread a talk from some years ago by Joseph B. Wirthlin “Come What may and love it” – a phrase attributed to his mother.
He said, “If we approach adversities wisely, our hardest times can be the times of greatest growth, which in turn can lead to times of greatest happiness.”
Life has taught me that there is opposition in all things.
I’m sure it has for you too.
And still, we carry on.
Not because the path is easy.
Not because we know what’s coming next.
But because something within us, or someone beside us (in the movie – Astrid), helps us to take the next step.
Come what may, we learn.
Come what may, we grow.
Come what may, we love it.
What “dragons” are you facing – and what quiet strength is helping you stand firm?

Twice is Nice

This morning, I’ve got a bit of a spiritual plot twist to share.
See our pictures….
They’ve got something lovely in common….
Well, yes us of course….… but there is also something else.
Mason Sowards, arrived in the Belgium Netherlands Mission as a new missionary back in September 2023, and Monic and I had the privilege of being his mission leaders.
Fast forward, and now back in Scotland, we find ourselves again with a Sowards missionary, this time Eliza Sowards, who was recently transferred to Dunfermline.
Yep….. Cousins!
Two different missions.
Two different countries.
One shared surname.
And somehow, both ended up serving with us.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
But I prefer to call it a God-incidence.
Both of them head home next month, and we can’t help but feel so lucky to have been part of their journeys, on both sides of the North Sea.
As the scripture says:
“The steps of a good man (and woman) are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way.” – Psalms 37:23
Well… apparently, so are transfers. 😄
So, here’s my question:
What are the odds that two cousins from the same family would both get stuck with us?!
Or better yet, what are the odds we’d be lucky enough to get to be with them both?
How many ‘coincidences’ does it take before you start calling it divine design?

When Tech Fails, Breathe!

Yesterday was a marathon of virtual facilitation for me: two long learning sessions, one in the morning, one in the afternoon.
The first?
Smooth.
Three and a half hours, two screens, headset, camera, notes, breakout groups – all went to plan.
A half-hour break in the middle, time to reset, and then back in.
Job done.
The second session, though, had other ideas.
Fifteen minutes in, everything glitched.
My second screen went dark.
MS Teams collapsed into chaos – slides, chat, 16 participants, all crammed onto one screen.
Grrrrrrr!
The breakout room function refused to cooperate.
I was juggling too much in too small a space, and it was just a mess…
Then I took a breath.
I apologised to the group.
I told them I needed to step out of the whole session and reset.
I closed everything down, rebooted, and then, just like that – things came back online.
The rest of the session?
It went really well, in fact one of the best ever as a strong bond developed with everyone as we discussed challenges that we all face at times.
Have you had one of those moments?
Whether it’s tech, pressure, or just being human, we hit the wall.
And in those moments, the best thing we can do isn’t to scramble, it’s to slow down.
Breathe – own the pause – reset.
Too often we think fast means strong.
That control means composure.
But sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is admit your off track, take a moment, and begin again – deliberately.
In your toughest moments — do you panic, or do you pause?

The Patience Spectrum

Following a recent coaching conversation, I decided to study the topic of patience for the last few weeks.
Yesterday, I was running a virtual learning session on a completely different topic and a spectrum or continuum was used to explore one key idea.
It got me thinking about patience again and figuring out what it would look like on a spectrum.
Patience is often praised as a virtue, but it’s not one-size-fits-all.
This morning, I started to see patience not as a fixed trait, but as a spectrum.
And like most spectrums, the extremes can be just as unhelpful as the absence of it.
On one end, there’s over-patience, the kind that borders on passivity and inaction.
You wait too long, tolerate too much, delay the hard conversations.
It feels calm on the outside, but underneath it might be fear, avoidance, or indecision.
On the other end, there’s impatience in overdrive.
Everything’s urgent.
There’s no space for process or people.
Things have to happen now, and if they don’t, then frustrations can arise.
Somewhere in between is the sweet spot: 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.
This version is intentional.
Balance is important.
Patience isn’t about stepping back and doing nothing.
It’s about staying connected while giving things the space they need.
You’re not rushing to control the outcome, but you’re not disengaging either.
You stay aware, you stay ready and most importantly you trust the timing.
But here’s the difficult question – it’s hard to know where you are on the spectrum.
If you’re not sure where you stand, ask someone you trust.
Someone who’s seen you in both calm and crisis.
“Do I tend to wait too long, or perhaps not long enough?”
The answer might surprise you, and possibly, it might be exactly what you need to hear.
“Patience is not indifference. Actually, it means caring very much but being willing, nevertheless, to submit to the Lord and to what the scriptures call the “process of time.”” – Neal A. Maxwell.
Where on the patience spectrum do you see yourself right now – and what might help you move closer to the sweet spot?

The Long Road Home

The last few days, I’ve been in Rome attending a world summit that was full of purpose, and hope.
The journey home, however, was quite a different story!
An early morning email from British Airways, warned me of possible flight delays in both Italy and the UK.
It was to prove all true for me.
Delays in Rome, resulted in a missed connection and an unexpected overnight stay in London.
It was a very late night, followed by a really early start again, only to be met by further delays at Heathrow.
To top it off, a hefty bill for 10 extra hours in the long-stay car park, was my welcome home present, which proved to be more expensive than the original 3-day booking. Ouch… ☹
I’ll be reclaiming that and a few other things too in the days ahead.
And then came the realisation… I’m not 30 anymore!
Eventually, I arrived home.
And the moment I stepped through the door, weary and worn, there was some peace and a short period of respite, before attending to another matter at hand.
I couldn’t help but think how often life is like that.
There are moments of real warmth, purpose and beauty, just like Rome.
Then periods of hassle and hardship can follow.
I pressed on through the delays, detours, and discouragement.
And at times, patience was key as it felt like I’d never quite get there, but eventually, I did.
The gospel teaches us that this mortal life is a journey too, often filled with trials that test our faith and patience.
“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” – 2 Corinthians 4:17
There is no shortcut to eternal life.
No express flight to peace and joy.
But there is purpose in the enduring.
And ultimately, arriving is really worth it.
Are you stuck in your own “layover” season right now – discouraged, delayed, or just plain tired.
If so, take heart. Keep going. The journey may be long, but the destination is glorious.
What helps you keep going when your journey is filled with delays?

From Rome, with Hope

 

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the Shape the World Summit in the shadows of the Vatican, at the Pontifical Urbaniana University in Rome, a place fondly referred to – as Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle reminded us – as “the missionary university.”
And it was HOT!! 35C!
It was a gathering rooted in the Jubilee of Hope, where more than just ideas were exchanged. We heard of leaders shaped not by power or platform, but by kindness, goodness, and humility.
Cardinal Tagle drew a moving contrast between Christian hope – anchored in divine purpose – and the kind of wishful thinking that so often falls short.
The theme of faith over fear became a recurring call throughout the day.
The summit didn’t shy away from the complex realities of our world: deepening conflict, climate disruption, the acceleration of AI, and demographic shifts across ageing western societies.
One sobering statistic lingered long in my mind: over 800 million people go to bed hungry each night.
Amid such weighty truths, a quote from Baden Powell, founder of the Scouts, brought clarity and resolve, especially meaningful to me as a former Boy Scout myself…
“Try and leave this world a little better than you found it.”

Too small?

And just when the scale of the challenges felt overwhelming, Oliver Pawle shared an African proverb that really resonated with me:
“If you think you’re too small to make a difference, you haven’t spent a night with a mosquito.”
A wise and timely reminder to us all.
For me, one of the most stirring contributions came from James Moore, whose talk “A Broken World Needs Creative Leadership” struck a powerful chord. He spoke of the USA at a geopolitical crossroads, but also of a broader truth – that we are all, in his words, “temporary shepherds of our global world.”
A powerful reminder of our shared stewardship of the earth and each other.
Much was also said about the appointment of the new Pope, significant not only in the choice of leader, but in the values that come with his Augustinian roots: humility, unity, contemplation, and deep interior commitment.
These are virtues our fractured world urgently needs.

The Common Growth Fund

As a Trustee of the Freedom of Religion or Belief (FoRB) Foundation, I was honoured to stand alongside my fellow trustee Matthew Jones for the launch of the Common Growth Fund, in partnership with Lawrence Chong of Consulus. This initiative seeks to reimagine our economic systems, supporting faith-based enterprises and creating space for values-led, socially impactful transformation.
Again and again, familiar themes emerged:
• Respect and dialogue as essential tools for peace
• Compassion and empathy as the birthplace of change
• A growing hunger for creative, values-based servant leadership across all sectors of society.
But perhaps what moved me most wasn’t any single keynote or statistic. It was the spirit of the gathering.
People from diverse backgrounds and many faith traditions, all united in a shared desire to build something better, to shape the world with courage and conscience.
And yes, I came away with a few new friends, too.
So, what kind of world are you trying to shape, and who are you shaping it for?

Learning Off the Tracks

On the final day of our West Highland Way Walk, a few of us rode aboard the Jacobite Express from Fort William to Mallaig.
It is the classic steam train across the Glenfinnan Viaduct, which I am sure many of you may have already taken – especially any Harry Potter fans!
As we approached the viaduct, the guard announced to get ready for a photo opportunity and to have our cameras handy, but not to lean out of the windows!
Everyone on board was focused on the moment: the train curving over the bridge, cameras out, trying to capture the perfect shot.
But the best photo I took wasn’t of the train and the viaduct, rather it was of the crowd below!

The Other View

Hundreds of people in the fields, some who I guess had travelled for hours, all there just to watch.
Yet something else clicked as I watched the little matchstick people below – it seemed much more fun down there than it was on the train!
They chose where to stand, what to notice, when to click.
They weren’t guided by announcements or told what to focus on.
Each of them was part of the moment on their own terms.
And that made me think about how we approach our personal development and learning.
Too often, learning is structured like the train ride: linear, controlled, timed to the minute.
Someone tells you when the “big moment” is, what to focus on, and how to capture it.
But real learning often looks more like the crowd: informal, self-directed, sparked by interest, not instruction.
Each of us seek meaning in our own way, turning up when something matters to us personally and learning most, when we have space to explore, reflect, and choose for yourself.
In the learning and development world, we spend a lot of time designing the “train ride”, but maybe we need to think more about how to support the people in the field.
The 70/20/10 model comes to mind.
Because sometimes the most valuable learning doesn’t happen on the tracks.
It happens off to the side, where curiosity lives, and where people are free to really see.
Where would you rather be – on the train, or choosing your own view?