Archive
Author: Alasdair Renwick-Hale
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Solitude Is Not the Same as Loneliness
I remember sitting in a small, sterile hospital room during a particularly long night shift, watching a man try to find peace through a…
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A Verse Removed From Its Paragraph Can Say Anything
I remember sitting in a cramped, sterile room in the oncology ward, holding the hand of a man who had just been told his…
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Fifteen Minutes Nobody Else Has Claimed
I spent thirty years in hospital wards, sitting by bedsides where the air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the heavy, unspoken…
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Conscience Is Trained, Not Innate
I remember sitting in a sterile, fluorescent-lit room in the oncology ward, listening to a man in his sixties try to explain why he…
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Structure Emerged From Need, Not Design
I’ve spent far too many afternoons in quiet libraries, watching well-meaning scholars attempt to map out the early church as if they were designing…
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People Usually Belong Somewhere Before They Agree With It
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital waiting room years ago, watching a young man try to explain his sudden, frantic need for spiritual…
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Small Groups Meeting in Houses
I remember sitting in a small, dimly lit hospital room during a particularly long winter shift, listening to a man describe how he felt…
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Start With the Facts, Not the Conclusion
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospice room in the late nineties, the air thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and the…
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Short and Daily Beats Long and Occasional
I remember sitting in a dimly lit hospital room during a double shift, the smell of antiseptic clinging to my scrubs, watching a man…
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Health Shows in How Disagreement Is Handled
I remember sitting in a sterile hospital waiting room during a Tuesday night shift, watching a family try to navigate the sudden, violent collapse…