It’s that time of year when I find myself inexplicably craving period costume dramas on the tele – all those awkward stilted conversations and heaving bosoms – and big bowls of hearty soup. We all go conkers bonkers and start to dig out our cosy knits. All, we hope and pray, is safely gathered in. Another month, another tender love letter from the natural world around us, generously abundant in beauty and enchantment as the seasons roll on.

Generosity has been on my mind of late. I recently attended the funeral of a very dear friend, Sheila. With her wife Sue, Sheila lived her whole life generously. She quietly and gloriously enriched the lives of her friends and her community, and wherever she went she made new and treasured friendships, all over the world. She was ridiculously intelligent, but she wore it humbly and without show, all the while changing the world for the better. Since I’ve known her, Sheila has been a significant inspiration to me. It breaks my heart that she is gone. Her legacy, however, will continue, because she lived so generously.

I wonder if the greatest enemy of generosity is fear. When we live fearfully, we may cling on tightly to what we’ve got, pull up our drawbridges, bolster our defences. But what, then, of all the others who get left out in the cold? Fear and struggle are inevitable in life, none of us escape them. While fear can be useful in helping us to make good and wise choices, at its worst fear can also stunt our compassion. But if we can hold our fear alongside hope, gratitude, and love, it need not define us; we find ourselves with the freedom to live generously.

Maya Angelou said that when we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed, and I am minded to agree. What might living generously look like for you today? What ways might you be a blessing? Maybe with your time, your patience, your financial resources, your hospitality, your talents, your prayers, your smile? If we know what it is to struggle or to be afraid, perhaps that understanding will encourage us to recognise and respond generously to struggle and fear in others, both friends and strangers.

Now, I’m going to cuddle up in a big cardigan, enjoy some Mr Darcy, and raise a glass to my wonderful friend Sheila.

God bless you my friends.

Rev Angie x