It has been a simply glorious, gorgeous, beautiful, lovely, whatever adjective you prefer, weekend.  Warm sunshine, almost clear blue skies by day and deep velvet by night.  Crocusses (croci) have passed, daffodils begin to brave the elements, rhodedendrons burst into cooour and golden catkins hang from the tree opposite my living room window.  Buildings glow in the morning sun, early mist lifts to reveal the contours of the hills.  Spring is abroad.

Yesterday's visiting preacher was using 'signs' as his theme... the rainbow sign of God's covenant the Galatians fruit of the Spirt as sign(s) of God, and our lives as signs of Christ for the world to see.

Yesterday evening we pondered the power of words to build or to destroy, noting that context and tone can be as significant as the words themselves.

It's no accident that Lent and Easter coincide with northern hemisphere spring, brimming with signs of new life, new hope, new energy.  I guess the challenge is that our lives, our words and our actions become signs of that hope.

I almost feel a twee Victorian hymn coming on... but I'll spare you that!