Whatever people might think, the churches of our land are not full of people for whom life has gone swimmingly and who therefore find the idea of “praising God, from whom all blessings flow” an easy or a comfortable thing to do.

There seems to be a mythology out there that all believers are naive types who skip through the daisies and know little or nothing about the tough, dark, difficult aspects of our human condition.

Nothing, in my experience, could be further from the truth.

For I look out, Sunday by Sunday, on a mixed collection of people, none of whom has had it easy; not one of whom has been insulated by their faith, from the body blows, upheavals, challenges, disappointments and disasters that can come crashing down on our little lives.

On the contrary, I see men and women who are dealing with illness, bereavement, betrayals and brokenness in abundance.

And the miracle is – and for me as their minister, it is a humbling truth – they are still there, regardless of the knocks, wounds and bruisings of experience... worshipping, praying and serving.

Those on the outside will find that strange given that, for many people, it is encounter with the vicious, capricious, nature of life that sends any hope of faith spinning. They want none of it.

They might say: “If God can let this thing happen to my loved on, or to myself, or my friend, then, frankly, who needs him and who wants him? And anyone who doesn’t see things that way must be deluding themselves, or be so gullible they are to be pitied!” Yet the people I encounter in the course of my ministry are anything but naive dupes.

They are intelligent, compassionate, integrated and whole people, who have come to understand that whatever else the life of faith might bring, it brings no concession tickets, no easy passage, no immunity from reality.

It is a faith that has to deal with the questions, the pressures, the darkness – and still live.

Working alongside such people is a privilege. Sharing the journey with them is a blessing.