Mad dogs and Englishmen

by Steve Legg

Back in the days before ‘O’ levels and work started to encroach on my life, when summer holidays seemed to stretch into an eternity of sand-filled hair and ice creams, I joined the Boys’ Brigade. Drawn by the lure of football and the promise of joint activities with the Girls’ Brigade, I signed up.

Our Boys’ Brigade Company was affiliated to a church that was so dull there was more life in the graveyard, but I went along with my mates and enjoyed myself nonetheless. I was thirteen and hadn’t a worry in the world.

The summer of 1980 seemed to last from April to September, and in July we headed off to BB camp. Our mums packed our suitcases with a spare pair of pants, a toothbrush and some money for ice creams (they were very small suitcases), and over seventy of us piled into the bus and headed down to sleepy Devon.

We stayed in Axmouth, a quaint little village with trams and a pretty harbour situated just down the road from Lyme Regis. It was idyllic. We spent all day hanging around our green ridge tents, listening to Blondie and Bad Manners on the radio, kicking a football, swimming in the sea, and playing pranks on our pals.

Keen to add some spice to the trip, some mates and I invented Axmouth Eddie; an axe-wielding maniac who scoured the town by day and night. Inspired by the Christian meetings we were having in the evenings, we told the younger boys that the only way to protect yourself was to wear the sign of the cross on your body, to ward off the evil man.

Sure enough, some masking tape was found and we all sellotaped a massive cross to our chests, oblivious to the stares from the other people on the beach.

One particularly hot day, my mate, Nigel Mason, proudly bearing his sticky cross, went off in search of an ice cream. While he was gone, the group decided to head back to camp, so I picked up his bag and took it with us to keep it safe. Poor old Nigel spent half the day scouring the beach, first for his mates and then his bag, before realising he’d gone from beached to deserted.

He finally turned up at camp hours later, wearing nothing but his swimming trunks, dehydrated and somewhat delirious. And although we had barely noticed his absence, his arrival caused something of a stir. Bearing a striking resemblance to a lobster, we could feel the heat coming from him at 50 paces. Standing in his Speedos, he was swiftly lathered in Calamine Lotion. It was painful to watch him wince as he gingerly pulled the tape from his chest.

It was quite a sight to behold. Nigel was going to be safe from Axmouth Eddie for weeks, if not months. There emblazoned in purest white on his chest, from neck to navel, from nipple to nipple, was a huge cross, standing out against his crimson red skin. I was glad it wasn’t me that night, trying to find a position in bed that didn’t hurt.

But what I really remember from that week is the guy who led the evening sessions. He was a vicar called Bruce who played the accordion and told us about Jesus. Each night after supper, we sat in the big marquee singing songs about God and hearing how much He loved us. Bruce really knew God and told us about Him in a way that brought Jesus to life.

Finally I had met someone who was excited about being a Christian, who explained that it meant more than going to church on Sunday, saying grace and sellotaping a massive cross to your sternum. At last I heard about a Father in Heaven who loved me so much He sent His Son to die on a cross for me, and this God wanted to be my friend.

I was awestruck. It was here among the sunburn, the sea and the camaraderie of boys, that I asked Jesus to come into my life. Things have never been the same again. I, too, had a lasting impression of the cross on my life.

Coming from a family who didn’t attend church, and going to youth group in a church which was barely breathing, I hadn’t heard this before. This camp changed my life in a way that nothing else could have done. I am eternally grateful to the men and the one and only woman, the amazing camp cook, Miss Smith, who gave up their time to run it for us. Their sacrifice and commitment provided me and the other boys with a chance to encounter God and turn our lives around.

I know I’m not the only person who has had an experience like this. Hundreds and thousands of young people are blessed year after year by attending camps and festivals organised by volunteers who love God and want to share that love with others. Others are touched because people have given their time to run youth groups or after-school clubs, or football clubs or film clubs, the list goes on.

My mother-in-law has run just such a group for over twenty years. I can’t tell you how many precisely, I’d be in trouble, which is never a good move. Recently, a young lad from the local estate, who’s been in more trouble than most, thanked her for what she’s done. In fact he thanked her for ‘spoiling’ them when she threw a Christmas party, and he asked her why she’d done it. Sometimes it’s not the talks that we give or the shows we put on; it’s not even the professionalism with which we do it, it’s the love we demonstrate by doing it that makes the difference.

I am forever indebted to Bruce, Mr King, Mr Bradley and our other amazing Boys’ Brigade leaders who gave up a week of their summer to share the love of God with me. I would urge all of us to find ways in which we can serve our community and give people a glimpse, through our sacrifice, of how God feels about them.

And I would advise campers everywhere, that going out in the noonday sun wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of Speedos and some sticky tape is not a good idea.

Steve Legg (main photo) was the Founder and Editor of Sorted Magazine. The article above is an extract from his book Paper Thongs. Used with permission.

On thin ice

By Jeff Lucas

It was a beautiful, crisp, autumnal day, the bright sunshine disguising the deadly reality of black ice, lurking stealth-like on the road surface. We were driving up a mountain pass in Oregon, a million Christmas trees creating a lush, green carpet below us. As we snaked up the pass, I observed that one should avoid the edge of the road, for there was a sheer drop of hundreds of feet; no crash barriers were to be found. The philosophy behind this road layout was simple, drive carefully, or die.

A friend was at the wheel. I was in the back of the car, wrestling with our young children who wanted an “are we nearly there yet” update every thirty seconds. Suddenly, as we steered round a rather tight bend, we hit a patch of frozen ice (note for physics graduates; most ice is frozen). The car went into a spin, and I casually observed that we were moving across the road towards the gaping snow-white jaws of oblivion. This was not good, could not be the will of God for us, and even if it was part of the plan, I didn’t like it. I decided to express my protest in no uncertain terms.

The Bible commands us that we should put serious effort into everything we do; “whatever things you do, do them with all your might”. I gulped in a great lungful of air and proceeded to obey this scriptural injunction by screaming blue murder at the very top of my voice. I think God must have heard me, certainly passing aliens picnicking on other planets probably heard my cries. Now, in the slow motion that apparently precedes death, we continued our helpless spin towards the precipice. Oh dear.

Then I noticed that my friend, the driver, was not screaming, but rather, he was praying. Actually, he seemed to think that some dark skull-duggery was afoot, because I heard him inform Satan in no uncertain terms to “get off of the car”. I peered through the swirling windscreen, but there was no horned figure with pitchfork and red tights to be found perched on the bonnet. Still, praying seemed like a good idea, so I joined in, except that instead of a Bruce Willis-Intercessor voice, what proceeded from my mouth sounded like Minnie Mouse with her tail caught in a lift door. And then the crevasse loomed, and so I decided to drop the prayer ministry and just get back to what I’m really good at; screaming.

The car tipped suddenly as we went over the side. What happened next defies logical explanation unless one concedes that there is a God who is interested in us. In a split second, the car was lifted up, shoved back onto the road. A lady driver who was coming down the pass stopped her car, so astonished was she at the sight. In a breathless roadside conversation with her a minute later, she told us that she saw three of our four wheels had gone over the edge, and then the car was lifted up. She was also a Christian, and was in no doubt as to the source of our roadside assistance.

To write these words presents me with a quandary: Christians, better Christians than I, die in car accidents. Just a couple of weeks ago, a young man with whom I have shared ministry fell asleep at the wheel, and died instantly as he ploughed into a tree. He had made sacrificial choices to follow Jesus, and he had a bright, promising future for God ahead of him. But he was not spared.

I am tempted to never speak of the cliff-side rescue again. But to embrace that silence is to deny something that God definitely did. Perhaps, in order to affirm what God did do for me that day, I have to tiptoe into the realm of mystery. The fact is, I don’t have a clue as to why I was spared when other more faithful friends of Jesus will die today in accidents around the world. But my half-knowledge must not prevent me from affirming that it did happen. God sometimes heals, and no disease is stronger than His muscle, but many are not healed.

That knowledge gives me a horror of the kind of Christianity that promises people sure results, health, healing, prosperity, as long as they follow a set of pre-packaged faith principles. Not only is God reduced to the status of a hapless vending machine, but also sincere people are hoodwinked. Faith is a love affair, and sometimes an exasperating and confusing romance at that, rather than an easy climb up twenty solid stairs to success. Like any other relationship, it cannot be reduced to cold laws or clever formulas.

Did God bless you today? Good, share the good news. But tread gently and sensitively around those who are currently living under a brass heaven, who still limp forward, painfully yet faithfully, waiting still for God. To affirm the power of a supernatural God in a world of pain and suffering is like being balanced precariously on a tightrope. It takes grace.

Jeff Lucas (pictured above) is an international author, speaker and broadcaster. He is the bestselling author of 34 books, broadcasts a weekly radio show with Premier Radio and is a monthly contributor for the UK magazine Christianity. Jeff writes daily bible reading notes Life with Lucas in printed and digital format. Connect with Jeff here: jefflucas.org, also Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Jefflucasuk

No fear

By Tony Vino

While sat at traffic lights my eye was drawn to the car in front which boldly displayed a sticker declaring No Fear. I too have a car sticker, mine was given to me at a festival stating Love Music, Hate Racism. This, to me, is a more noble campaign. However, I must confess, even though I’m against racism I’m not really that into music. A more accurate slogan for me would be Loves Radio Four, hates jazz, and is definitely against racism.

So why was I irked about the No Fear sticker? Perhaps it was the way the driver continually revved his engine as though he was goading someone to drag race him along the A56 to Macclesfield. He was driving a small Renault with a massive exhaust (the type that makes the engine sound like a loud broken trumpet). “Stupid French car” I thought. Oh no! Maybe I am racist! Hang on, I drive a Citroen . . . phew!

No Fear? It doesn’t even make sense. Why would you make lacking a basic emotion into a goal? Having no fear isn’t a virtue, in fact it’s a serious brain disorder called Urbach-Wiethe disease.

I sat there smouldering, thinking: “So what’s next, Mr Revvy Renault, with your massive exhaust and stupid sticker? How about No Empathy you psychopath?” Wow, I was really getting worked up so decided to get to the root of this emotional reaction. According to Jungian Psychology what you find most galling in others secretly exposes what you dislike in yourself*. Did old-big-pipe’s declaration of having No Fear reveal an inner shame about my own fear and anxiety?

Growing up I was always very fearful. Some people say they are a lover not a fighter. I was a worrier not a warrior. I fretted about everything, the future, the past, what people thought of me, what if no-one thought of me at all, what if all this worrying would give me an ulcer?

I tried philosophy, self-help books, meditation. I became a Christian at age 16 and turned my attention to the ancient wisdom of the Bible which states ‘Perfect love casts out all fear’. This line comforted me all of two minutes before I proceeded to worry that maybe I don’t know God’s love because I was still well, er, worrying . . . Oi Vey!

As I fast approached 40 I looked back at my fretful younger self with loving amusement the way you would a puppy continually chasing its own tail. It’s not that I have somehow mastered or rid myself of fear. On the contrary it’s more like we’ve spent so much time together we’ve become old friends. He still lives in the neighbourhood but now I don’t jump out of my skin every time he knocks on the door to visit. In fact I’ve become strangely appreciative of that old worry wart. How many times have his cautionary impulses saved me from harm, such as not stepping in front of a bus, or entering a disastrous relationship?

I read somewhere that people who are naturally fearful are the best to have around in an emergency. They are such experts at dealing with fear that they are never overwhelmed by it in extreme situations. Bravery is thus not the absence of fear but the will to act in spite of it. So as fearless Renault man sped off I was thankful for the moment’s reflection he’d gifted me. However I won’t be adding his sticker to my rear window collection unless I can make my own amendment: No Fear = No courage.

*Jung claims that the reverse can also be true ie what you admire in others is what you like about yourself (personally I admire the fact Jung was a genius).

Tony Vino (pictured above) is a pro comedian who has been performing internationally for over 20 years. From comedy clubs, cruises, churches to festivals, he is renowned for mixing well thought out observational humour with audience interaction and quick witted responses.

The Chosen Season Six airs November 15th on Prime

By Val Fraser

As the autumn nights drew in I made the decision to hunker down under a blanket in the evenings and re-watch The Chosen series - a groundbreaking historical drama based on the life of Jesus. Call me sad, but one of my motives was to experience the comfort of visiting, what felt like, familiar friends. I wanted to walk with them and relive what had become familiar story lines, but this time with the benefit of hindsight.

My other motive was to avoid, for as long as possible, facing up to the very last part of this story. I had become ‘invested’ in this Jesus character. Rationally speaking, I understood that this man was an actor playing a part, I was watching a dramatic representation of Jesus. Yet, I felt some dread about seeing him suffer, and wasn’t sure I could handle it. Then it dawned on me. His followers, and his mother, must have experienced an utterly terrible, overwhelming sense of fear and dread. My apprehensions were small potatoes by comparison, but I wasn’t alone in feeling them.

Dallas Jenkins, Chairman and Chief Creative Officer of 5&2 Studios and Creator/Executive Producer of The Chosen said: “Everyone knows the basics of this part of the story, but not everyone knows the ‘why’ of the crucifixion and the extraordinary events of these 24 hours. We realised this not only deserved a season of television but a standalone full-length theatrical event as well. We wrote and filmed all of it with this in mind.”

Featuring six episodes, The Chosen Season Six will debut three episodes on November 15th, followed by the release of a weekly episode up to December 6th. The season finale will be a stand-alone theatrical release in spring 2027. In addition to the US, the new season will be available on Prime Video in the UK, the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Sub-Saharan Africa, and Latin America. The Chosen Seasons One through Five are now streaming on Prime Video.

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

Dear reader,

You are probably aware that faith plays a major part in the Sorted story. And so for this issue I’ve put it centre stage. I hope that my former boss, our beloved Founder and Editor, the late Steve Legg, would approve of my editorial choices!

Funny man, Tony Vino, is a longstanding friend of Sorted Magazine, he toured with Steve Legg and they were close friends. He’s a natural clown, quick witted, genuinely kind and puts on a hilarious show! You can check out Tony’s latest gigs here.

The statistics tell me that readers enjoy content about cars and culture, and as ever, Jeff Lucas, remains a very popular choice. You can check out Jeff’s latest bible reading notes here.

Please do drop a comment to let me know your reading preferences!

God bless, Val Fraser, Editor

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“The person I deceive the most is me”

By Miles Protter

I’m a good person. Yet ask my wife, family and friends, and they’ll point out the chasm separating my self-image from reality. The person I deceive the most is me.

One thing I don’t admit to is being easily angered. But all it takes is a few minutes of frustration on a less than efficient help desk before I load and fire both barrels. And when my wife interrupts me to help with a tech issue, I can get very grumpy! No grace or patience, just an automatic reaction kicking in before I’m able to consider alternatives. I always regret such behaviour afterwards.

A few sessions with a counsellor revealed much of my anger comes from my mother’s early death when I was a teenager. The poor woman tried to direct her six foot three, fifteen-year-old son from her hospital bed. But I had ideas of my own and we clashed frequently. When she died the day after a heated argument, I felt so guilty, which festered inside me for decades.

I have another habit of wearing people down to get what I want, insisting on my route, my schedule, my recipe, or my activities. Many go along with it, but some resist. I can cause unnecessary conflict. Again, after seeing a counsellor, I realised this was a coping mechanism for teenage isolation and grief. Unaddressed for years, it gnawed at me, ready to spring out at a moment’s notice. Now, in moments of introspection, I can see how my ‘nice guy’ image has just been a useful fiction.

I console myself with the belief that my sins are small compared with the sins of others. The tech billionaires, politicians, celebrities and companies who routinely break the rules and rip off customers. The disgraced church leaders who’ve had affairs or covered up scandals and abuse. You get the picture.

But unless my wife threatens to leave, surely no action at all is the most comfortable option for me? Yet, something inside me wants to change. It’s got everything to do with the human being I want to be. How I choose to live matters. Others see me and may follow. I can’t do much about the big-shots and their deceptions but I can refuse to buy into it.

Can you relate to what I’m saying? Allow me to share a few things which have helped me so far:

It helps to recognise the unwillingness to face up to the reality about ourselves. We might as well. Everyone else knows what we’re like but they put up with us either because they have no choice or love us, or both. We’re just the last ones to find out. How do we stop deceiving ourselves and make positive change happen?

First, it helps to seek the truth. It can be painful and disruptive. I rejected my wife’s challenges for years but woke up while walking with her on a six-hundred-kilometre pilgrimage. We were arguing regularly and sometimes didn’t talk all day. The issues, getting lost, losing gear, how often we had sex, had always been her fault! Suddenly I realised how demanding and angry I could be.

Second, it helps to own the truth. I was making myself angry but blaming others. I could hardly let it in. Yet owning the truth was the start of my healing journey.

Third, it helps to be accountable. No one wants to do this. I believe it’s essential and requires surrender. Going to a counsellor for six sessions provided me with a structure. The second time provided another. My weekly men’s group is the place I can share my failures (and joys). Without accountability, we’re fooling ourselves.

Fourth, it helps to take action.

• Reflect in a journal (or write poetry, prayers, songs). I have an entire shelf!

• Get counselling. It’s worth every penny. We need to talk to a professional to sort things out.

• Calm ourselves from ‘fight / flight’ or lift ourselves out of ‘shutdown’. A somatic coach will help.

• Join a group with people open to sharing and accountability

Fifth, pray like your life depends on it. Because it does. It’s the only way you’ll begin the journey in the first place and stay the distance.

Miles Protter (pictured above) was raised in Canada, studied economics at Cambridge followed by a career in investment banking. He then pursued a new vocation in leadership development, eventually moving to Australia with his family. He’s actively involved in men’s ministry.

Deceit grows into denial

By Dave Hopwood

When I was at school, probably about the age of 13, I cheated in an exam. The night before the exam I wrote down some things I was struggling to remember, rolled up the small piece of paper into a tube. The next day I went in with the tiny roll up my sleeve. After the exam a friend just happened to mention that he noticed, saying something like: “I see Hop had his cheat notes out”. I don’t recall what the exam was, or how I got on, but I still feel the ‘ouch’ moment. Partly from my fraudulent behaviour of cheating, and mostly because I was spotted trying to deceive the system.

According to a particular search engine deceit is the act of hiding, faking or changing the truth. And to be honest we all do that to some degree. Meet someone who asks how you are and often we’ll say ‘fine’ even if we’re not. I have spent a lot of time faking things, trying to look sorted and cool and as if I know what I’m doing. Life to me is still a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a falafel; I’ll never really grasp it. But I put a lot of energy into covering up my ineptitude. When I was drinking more than was good for me I went through an awful lot of mints.

In the first Thor movie, the big blonde Norse superhero describes having a devil on his shoulder claiming to be holy. Deceit does that. It masks the truth.

The truth, it seems to me, is that we make mistakes. We follow those temptation roads. Because we fear being found out deceit sends down deep roots which grow into denial. Like Japanese Knotweed it takes hold, spreads and cracks the foundations of life itself. Thank God that we don’t have to conceal mistakes from our maker. There’s no point because he sees us clearly anyway! And it was Jesus who promised that facing reality, facing the truth, could set us free. The highway to cover-up leads downhill, reality road is not easy, but it can lead to the freedom which Jesus spoke of.

Dave Hopwood (pictured above) loves communicating the Bible using contemporary media, humour and stories. He is author of a series of books retelling the Bible including The Shed, The Bloke’s Bible, and Raging Grace. He passionately believes that the Bible was and is aimed at ordinary people, and that it is earthy, funny and incisive in the way it tells of God’s interaction with the world.

Read Dave’s story here.

Meet Dave in person at Scargill events.

Subscribe to Dave’s weekly newsletter here.

Discover more of Dave’s writing here.

Capital: A cocktail of deceit and denial

By Val Fraser

Seasoned British actor, Toby Jones (pictured above), stars in the BAFTA-winning series Capital. It is Peter Bowker’s adaptation of John Lanchester’s critically acclaimed and bestselling novel of the same name. Produced by Kudos for BBC One and now available on Prime.

Deceit and denial are woven into the most popular contemporary dramas. There would be very little mystery for the viewer to unravel without these factors. But every plot-line in Capital was built on a foundation of deceit. To some degree each of the characters seemed to be hiding something. Sometimes the viewer was in on the secret and participated in the suspense of wondering if and how the guilty party might be found out. Sometimes the viewer was given a few clues and recruited to play armchair detective.

But Capital most certainly is not a predictable “whodunnit”. There’s no gore or murder. At times the deceit was so subtle I almost missed it, but once I had noticed it, I saw it everywhere. A charming lie of omission, a polite partial truth, a passive aggressive pout or sulk. I found it interesting to observe the sometimes sinister undercurrent of deceit. Untruths are at work, causing the most damage in the unseen substructures of the very closest personal relationships.

Investment banker Roger (Toby Jones), rubbing his hands in anticipation of his £1m bonus, delivered a simmering unspoken sense of denial about the unnamed emptiness of his own life. Jones said: “Roger is on an emotional path . . . he isn’t an evil banker . . . he is not totally in charge of his life or his work.”

Jones’ character experienced serious loss of control both at work and in his home life. At times it was difficult to watch him struggling to regain control. The stress keeps building and building, but for the most part, he seemed unable to acknowledge it. On an emotional level he seemed to be a man adrift in mid-life while projecting the appearance of a successful city life. The pretense seemed exhausting.

This BBC mini series was adapted for television by Peter Bowker, he explained: “The great thing about Capital is that it works on a number of levels. What hooks you in is the initial mystery, residents of a street in London, from mixed racial and social backgrounds, all receive a post card on the same day and that post card says ‘We Want What You Have.’ That is the starting point, what could it possibly mean? The postcards become the engine that drives the story as we get to know the community in the street and become involved in their own mysteries too. That’s the joy of Capital, there is always mystery at the back of your mind in every scene.”

Capital weaves an intriguing thread of deceit and denial into the lives of people living on a London street. Executive Producer Derek Wax said: “In a way Capital is about families as much as it’s about individuals. It deals with the complexities of family life, the squabbles and the moments when we don’t connect and things are left unsaid because some conversations aren’t easy. Capital explores that in a very sensitive and often emotionally complex way.”

Capital is available on Prime.

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

Hello,

Massive thanks must go to Miles Protter and Dave Hopwood for sharing their deeply personal experiences of deceit and denial. I’m extremely proud of all the Sorted Digital writers who work so hard to deliver a variety of authentic, helpful content to our thousands of readers spread across the globe.

Finally, a huge thank you to the flurry of regular readers who decided to share Sorted Digital recently! I love that, it is so encouraging! Please do share this issue.

God bless, Val Fraser, Editor

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The mugging

By Jeff Lucas

It was a vicious attack, sudden and violent, that came, not from a physical assailant, but from a thought that kicked its way into my head with a ferocity that was totally paralysing. It was a mental mugging. The thought formed itself inside my brain in a millisecond, whispering what I had always felt was unthinkable.

I am bored with God. I am bored with being a Christian.

I was doing my best to mind my own business when it happened. The scene of the attack was unusual; it happened in the quiet, air-conditioned sterility of an airport executive lounge. I had settled myself into one of those little cubicles that busy people on the move use; you can plug in your computer, make a dozen phone calls, or write a note to your children. I fired up my notebook, and settled down to work on a sermon. The other cubicles were occupied, and the hum of phone calls to secretaries, deals being done, and the fuzzy roar of modems shaking hands with the internet droned away.

My attention was distracted by a conversation being held at high volume by a very smartly dressed chap in the next booth. Razor creases in his trousers, short collar undone and expensive silk tie loosened in the let’s-get-down-to-business-then style, he looked every inch the bright, young high flier. Apparently he was closing an eight million dollar deal with a major corporation. He was excited, animated even, as he finalized the details. I peered at him discreetly; he was not more than thirty, and here he was, wheeling and dealing and being a major player. He was significant. Important. Key and very necessary.

And suddenly totally the opposite of all of the above. I felt the crisis that comes when, as Christian leaders, we feel that we are condemned to always deal with the invisible, the intangible, the hereafter. All around me were people who were trading in very tangible, touchable commodities. Here was I, labouring again over a sermon that may make absolutely no difference whatsoever, delivered to people who may simply see its presentation as a mere snack in their regular diet of evangelical entertainment. I suddenly felt very small, very unaccomplished, surrounded as I was in this airport lounge loaded with over-achievers.

And for a moment or two, I didn’t want to be a Christian leader anymore, or even a Christian, for that matter. The apparent madness of a life lived for the invisible swept over me, followed quickly by a breaking wave of guilt that I should even think such a thought. And then, the taste of that guilt itself tasted bitter. The crushing burden of always living under the shadow of oughts; I ought to pray more, I ought to be a better leader, I ought to be able to see a miracle or two, I ought, I ought . . . pushed me under like a drowning man. I was gasping for breath.

I was stunned that I could be mugged so very easily. I had managed to keep afloat when hearing of a friend developing a brain tumour recently. Who was I to get angry, when she stands resolutely in the arena of her pain, her husband bravely, unquestioningly at her side? What right does a spectator of their anguish have to get angry, when they choose to trust?

And I had bobbed along hopefully when faced with the boring bits of Christian leadership. Gossiping Christians that you may well spend eternity avoiding. Evangelical politics and power plays, smilingly, greasily maneuvered in the name of God. The cynicism that comes when you have been around Christian leadership for a while. It all feels like a loss of innocence that might come to an avid theatre-goer who wanders backstage, and is confronted by the scenery, the props, the instruments of the illusion. I know how we leaders can engineer atmosphere, control people under the guise of exhortation; preach one thing and live another. I had seen that the lift in the worship was more the fruit of a well-timed key change than a heavenly visitation. And I had hesitated a few times over the fence of familiarity; the challenge of holding onto fresh faith when God is your job, when you are paid to be pious. But I had negotiated my way through these thoughts with relative ease. And here I was, being rugby tackled by an overheard conversation of a young go-getter. Never mind that he was dealing in the temporary, and I in the everlasting; that was just my point. I wanted something very much in the here and now.

I did learn that God does seem to keep trekking with us when we want to quit on Him. That weakness is often the landing strip that He looks for. When I finally got home, tiredness was a leaden thing draped heavily over me. I arrived at our empty house, dumped my bags in the hallway, and glared at the Everest of mail, a combination of bills and junk. The place smelt musty, and was cold. The dog didn’t even greet me: my tired eyes told him that man’s best friend wasn’t going to get too much fuss today.

Within twenty-four hours, I would be climbing aboard another flight to speak about God to yet another group of hopeful people who anticipated some words from the Creator of the Universe through exhausted, irritable me.

I didn’t want to be there. I had no desire to talk about God, life, love, church, or indeed anything of any significance or weight. I wanted to crawl into bed for three days, waking only to watch a funny video or eat some unhealthy snacks. I didn’t want to even give a passing thought to aspiration, commitment or discipleship; an old episode of Father Ted would do me just fine.

And for some reason that I just cannot figure, God helped, and some seriously significant things happened. I had been asked to speak about sex to a large youth celebration: numbers of tearful young people, bruised by the abuse of daddy’s little secret, decided that enough was enough; it was time to blow the whistle. Just one of them would have made the whole weekend worthwhile.

And then, on the Sunday night, a young lady who hadn’t darkened the doors of a church for five years, sat through the last twenty minutes of my talk, her shoulders shaking gently with tears as God met her. Numbers of people, eyes bright with gratitude, whispered their thanks, affirming that God had helped them and had used my bleary eyed preaching to do so.

I’m not suggesting that my frantic scheduling is in anyway commendable. It is the fruit of bad choices made a year ago, when a blank diary lay open before me; only my own madness stained it with such hyperactivity.

But I have noticed God seems to find weakness quite irresistible. When we are right at the end of our rope, it is then that He seems to delight in showing up.

So what of it all, a few days later? Well, I’ve figured out that I’m not actually bored with God; who is more incredible, more colourful, more surprising than Him? No, I am glad again that there is the sound of laughter at the heart of the universe, and that I know the source. What a marvel, that the creator is friend.

But I think that being bored with life this side of fullness is normal. One day, all of us will see the face of Jesus. Faith will be finished with, a discarded antique. Questions will be silenced by the breathtaking, crystal clear view. In the meantime, there will be days when I’m too tired to believe, too weary to hope, and when a resolute, emotionless faithfulness to what is right is all that I know.

I’m really looking forward to that clear, heavenly view. Come on Jesus.

Come on back.

Jeff Lucas (pictured above) is an international author, speaker and broadcaster. He is the bestselling author of 34 books, broadcasts a weekly radio show with Premier Radio and is a monthly contributor for the UK magazine Christianity. Jeff writes daily bible reading notes Life with Lucas in printed and digital format. Connect with Jeff here: jefflucas.org, also Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Jefflucasuk

Review: New VW Transporter Sportline 2026

By Tim Barnes-Clay

Insta @tbarnesclay & TikTok @timauto_

For more than 20 years, the Volkswagen Transporter Sportline has been the UK’s original sports van, combining practicality with eye-catching style.

The new 2026 model builds on that reputation, offering sharper looks, improved technology, and a wider choice of powertrains, including diesel, plug-in hybrid, and fully electric options.

The latest Sportline is available as either a panel van or Kombi and stands out thanks to its lowered Eibach suspension, aggressive body kit, gloss-black detailing, Matrix LED headlights, and striking 19-inch alloy wheels. Volkswagen has also introduced a limited-run Sportline 75 Special Edition to celebrate 75 years of the VW Bus, finished in exclusive Moss Green paint with bespoke styling touches.

Inside, the Sportline feels significantly more modern. A 12-inch digital driver display is paired with a 13-inch touchscreen infotainment system featuring wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto. Multiple USB ports and charging points improve everyday usability.

Eco-leather sports seats with red stitching enhance the cabin’s premium feel, while the redesigned layout increases storage space. An electronic parking brake and steering-column gear selector free up room between the seats, making the cabin feel less cluttered.

Load space has also grown, with the short-wheelbase model offering up to 5.9 cubic metres of cargo capacity and the long-wheelbase version providing 6.6 cubic metres, enough for three Euro pallets. Kombi models benefit from twin sliding doors and removable rear seating, allowing easy conversion between passenger and cargo use.

The all-electric e-Transporter Sportline comes with either 218PS or 286PS. It takes 8.6 seconds to reach 62mph for the 218PS variant, whereas it takes only 7.4 seconds for the higher-powered variant.

The diesel range includes a 170PS 2.0-litre TDI engine coupled with an eight-speed auto transmission. Although slower to accelerate, taking 14 seconds to hit 62mph, it provides excellent mid-range power and is ideal for long-distance load-lugging.

Note that if you want the plug-in hybrid (eHybrid) version, you’ll have to wait, as it won’t be available until later this year. But whichever powertrain you go for, the lowered Eibach suspension improves body control and agility, helping the Sportline feel composed and confident on the road.

The electric model uses an 83kWh battery and offers a WLTP range of up to 206 miles. Rapid charging at up to 125kW allows a 10-80% recharge in around 30 minutes. Diesel versions return approximately 34mpg.

Overall, the 2026 Volkswagen Transporter Sportline successfully modernises the sports van formula. It combines great styling, advanced technology, strong practicality, and a choice of efficient powertrains, making it an appealing option for both business users and lifestyle buyers.

Fast Facts: New 2026 VW Transporter Sportline (diesel as tested)

• Max speed: 109 mph

• 0-62 mph: 14.0 secs

• MPG: 34

• Powerplant: 2.0-litre TDI

• Power (PS): 170

• CO2: 216-220 g/km

• Price £62,752 (£52,360 excl. VAT) for the Panel Van & £65,128 (£54,340 excl. VAT) for the Kombi

Tim Barnes-Clay (pictured above) is a freelance journalist with more than three decades’ worth of industry experience under his belt. He test-drives the latest cars and attends new vehicle press launches around the world. The dad-of-three has a postgraduate diploma in broadcast journalism and has been a presenter and producer at ITV. He has also worked as a radio reporter and continues to present videos and record voiceovers.

Opinion: “Did Clarkson set himself up to pay a public penance?”

By Val Fraser

Val Fraser owns up to a guilty pleasure; Clarkson’s Farm.

Because I’d assumed Jeremy Clarkson was an entitled, toxic toff (who was fired by the BBC) on principle, I’d refused to watch any of his shows. I’d also assumed that Clarkson might be making laddish fun of farmers. This probably says more about me than it says about him. ‘Tis true, I am a woman with opinions. Not surprisingly, I also have an opinion about my own opinions. And that is, I should mostly keep my opinions to myself.

One evening a TV trailer for Clarkson’s Farm challenged my assumptions and opinions. My curiosity was piqued and I was slowly drawn in. Much to my surprise Clarkson’s Farm does exactly what it “says on the tin”. Jeremy Clarkson actually does own a huge farm and when his farm manager retired he decided to run it himself. Cue an out-of-his-depth city slicker being repeatedly thrashed by the elements, the livestock and the locals. Did Clarkson subconsciously set himself up to pay a sort of self-deprecating public penance for his sins?

Clarkson is a talented broadcaster who seems able to extract entertainment value from every blag, blather and blunder. Yet he is frequently alarmed to discover just how brutally unscripted farming can be. Fame and fortune are no match for the British weather. Through much disappointment and dismay the inescapable realities of working the land both wear him down and win him over. Through relentless grafting he appears to become more grateful and grounded. At times more reverent about life and death.

A word of caution: The language has been rated as “foul”. Indeed it can be appalling and vulgar, but sadly, no worse than I’ve endured down the pub or in the newsroom. Adult themes are referenced and some viewers may be offended and feel the need the turn off the box!

Language aside, Clarkson’s Farm has entertained, enlightened and informed me. Watch closely enough and you may notice that the sheep episode is loaded with biblical imagery. Clarkson’s novice attempt at shepherding revealed just how difficult sheep are to control. His closest “followers” are equally strong willed and are constantly challenging him! The harvest time in series one displayed heart warming unity for the greater good, and in spite of arguments, most of the grain is gathered in. Clarkson seems to care about farming and (almost) every living thing on his farm. He seems somehow settled and a tiny bit softer.

I found it especially interesting to witness Clarkson’s instinctive ability to step outside of himself in order to narrate the happenings in his own life. But this detached-from-reality observer’s perspective is frequently his undoing. And while Clarkson remains a controversial figure who has undoubtedly offended many people, including me, I have to concede that my assumptions and opinions about the Clarkson’s Farm series were mostly wrong! Clarkson’s Farm is available on Amazon Prime.

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

A re-invented space for Christian women

By Jemimah Wright

After 44 years in print, Premier Woman Alive Magazine is beginning an exciting new chapter, and we’d love you to tell your wives, sisters and daughters about it!

I’m Jemimah Wright (pictured above) Commissioning Editor of Woman Alive Magazine, and while it was emotional to see our much-loved print magazine come to an end, I’m incredibly excited about what comes next. Woman Alive Magazine is now online at womanalive.co.uk, continuing to do what we have always done: create honest, engaging and faith-filled content for Christian women, wherever they are on their journey with God.

So, what can you expect to find?

Stories that inspire. We love a story telling the journey of ordinary people encountering an extraordinary God. Whether it’s an answer to prayer, a journey through adversity, a surprising calling or a story of transformation, we want to remind you that God is still at work in people’s lives.

Opinion that makes you think. Faith doesn’t exist in a bubble, so we explore the issues shaping our culture and ask what it means to follow Jesus in the real world. Our writers tackle everything from relationships and identity to culture, media and the challenges facing the Church.

Practical advice for real life. You’ll find articles on health and wellbeing, parenting, relationships, work, money and much more. We want to offer thoughtful, trustworthy content that helps you navigate the everyday realities of life while keeping faith at the heart of the conversation.

And there’s plenty more. We have regular columnists, interviews, book recommendations, features and stories designed to encourage, challenge and equip you. Whether you have been a Woman Alive reader for decades or have only just discovered us, there is a place for you here.

One of the things I’ve always loved about Woman Alive Magazine is that it has never been afraid to ask honest questions. We don’t have to pretend that faith makes life easy or that we have everything figured out. Instead, we want to create a space where Christian women can be encouraged in their faith, wrestle with difficult questions and discover that they are not alone.

The move online means we can reach even more women, share stories more quickly and respond to what is happening in our world – while continuing the legacy of a magazine that has been encouraging Christian women for 44 years.

Visit Woman Alive and on Instagram.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

By Dave Hopwood

Slap in the middle of the movie Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga there is a twenty minute thrill ride. Praetorian Jack and Furiosa are under attack while driving a huge articulated truck through the wastelands. Enemies on motorbikes hurl bombs and exploding spears, while others parachute in to try and board the truck. The onslaught is relentless. Jack and Furiosa are hit from all sides, and it takes every ounce of energy, courage and ingenuity to fight off the onslaught.

Our lives can often seem like a battle, hopefully not as intense as this scene, but we have our moments. Like Jack and Furiosa we can feel up against it through no fault of our own.

Life ambushes us, it hurls missiles of stress, trouble, temptation and fear. The problems come our way like exploding spears and burning bombs. And if you’re anything like me you want to be able to fight these alone. We don’t want to look weak. We don’t want to admit we can’t cope. We’re strong. We’re okay. Until we’re not. I was watching a clip on YouTube recently that features the comedian John Bishop, talking about the time when his marriage fell apart. He said that his wife got together with her mates, but he did what some men do. He started drinking.

Ultimately he took up comedy and in doing so reconnected with his wife and they went and got help from someone. One of Charlie Mackesey’s animations has a boy asking his horse, “What’s the bravest thing you’ve said?” and the horse replies, “Help.” It changes things if we can see our need for help as a brave act and not a cowardly one. It takes courage, it takes steel to do this.

There is a great verse in the Bible in the Old Testament book of Isaiah, chapter 52 v 7, that says, “How beautiful are the feet that bring good news of peace.” Maybe the feet are yours, bringing peace and help to a friend today, or maybe you need someone to bring peace to you. Either way, it’s a powerful and courageous thing.

Dave Hopwood (pictured above) loves communicating the Bible using contemporary media, humour and stories. He is author of a series of books retelling the Bible including The Shed, The Bloke’s Bible, and Raging Grace. He passionately believes that the Bible was and is aimed at ordinary people, and that it is earthy, funny and incisive in the way it tells of God’s interaction with the world.

Read Dave’s story here.

Meet Dave in person at Scargill events.

Subscribe to Dave’s weekly newsletter here.

Discover more of Dave’s writing here.

Hello,

Welcome to all our lovely new readers and thank you for reading this issue of Sorted Digital! Substack is an interesting publishing platform, and when I have the head space, I’m planning to become more acquainted with the “Notes” function so we can sort of chat online!

Until then, please do share this issue, God bless and see you next time.

Val Fraser, Editor

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Sorted Digital online magazine is available free on Substack. October’s issue is now scheduled to arrive via email directly into subscriber inboxes at 6am on September 21st 2026. You can follow the links on this page or sign up here. https://digitalsorted.substack.com/

Roger Sutton, CEO of Gather Movement said: “Churches have long been part of the fabric of local communities. What this research does for the first time is to show, with evidence, just how widespread and relied upon this work is. This isn’t about belief, it’s about what is happening on the ground in communities every day.” 

The research, independently verified by Kohlrabi Consulting, provides the first comprehensive national picture of the extent to which churches are supporting local communities through services such as food provision, debt advice, mental health and wellbeing support, youth activities, and initiatives addressing loneliness and isolation.  

Many of these services are accessed by people regardless of faith, and often provide support where other provision is stretched or unavailable. With a survey response rate exceeding 70% from 1,632 churches, this research maps churches of every denomination and size across a locality. The findings reveal that the churches surveyed are collectively regularly delivering 12,840 essential welfare community services year-round, supporting people of all ages and backgrounds and making a substantial contribution to community well being. 

Photo Credit: Jakub Zerdzicki via Pexels

By Val Fraser

In summer I escaped from my desk for a road trip to Scargill to chat with The Bloke's Bible author Dave Hopwood (pictured above).

Dave was participating as a working guest at Scargill (pictured above) a Christian retreat, conference centre and residential community tucked away down a winding country lane in the spectacular Yorkshire Dales. It was a glorious summer’s day, but the silly Sat Nav kept trying to send me down steep overgrown dirt tracks, only to be turned back by worried farmers waving their walking sticks at me! Eventually armed with clear directions from friendly locals I arrived at a cluster of buildings grouped together on the hillside like a forgotten village. The buildings are situated within the 90 acre Scargill Estate which includes a walled garden, meadow and terraced garden. Lost then late, I was relieved to be warmly greeted by a very friendly Dave Hopwood waiting for me at the door.

We settled down to chat in a cosy lounge by an impressive fireplace. Dave is a prolific writer and a regular contributor to Sorted Digital and I had been curious to hear his story for some time. As an editor I’ve found him to be an original thinker, very insightful, with an unusual creative approach to story telling. By my reckoning he’s written well over sixty books, plus countless sketches, dramas, workshop exercises, poems and mime pieces. He is probably best known for his best selling, trailblazing book The Bloke's Bible.

How The Bloke's Bible came about

Dave explained how The Bloke's Bible came about: “I’d been a mime artist for nine years, and then I fell apart because it became too stressful. So I developed my writing more. I wrote children’s books which I’ve put out on Amazon. Right in the back of my mind I was thinking I’d just love to write something that would express all the struggle I was feeling. At that time I started to read books by Nick Hornby, John O’Farrell and Tony Parsons. And what I loved was they really made me laugh about what it was to be in your thirties and forties. They were honest but they were funny. And so I was thinking where are all the Christian writers doing that? And that was what eventually became The Bloke's Bible.

“I would go into a pub, drink Guinness, sometimes with a book or my bible. So that was the scenario I created; an imaginary guy going into his local, struggling with life, reading a bit of the bible, which I rewrote in a very accessible blokey way. Then he imagines what the lives of the other guys in the pub were like in connection with that. And that became The Bloke's Bible.

“The drinking got too much and that was a part of the falling apart and being put back together again. ‘Cos actually it really was not a good time, but out of it, that’s where I became much more earthed about faith and life. It did that. It punched a hole in the sort of idealised idea I had about faith. And to this day I’m still sort of drawing on all that experience really. I feel God put me back together. I’d been doing a lot of mime and drama then I stopped, seriously believing that God would make me a famous writer, that was obviously going to happen! And of course it didn’t happen so I ended up doing three jobs.

“I worked in a cinema for eighteen months, and I do love cinema, but I was just sort of sweeping up popcorn. Everyone was half my age. And I was there thinking what am I going to do? At the end of a shift they’d jump into a car, drive down to Brighton from Woking and go clubbing. I’d go home and have a cup of cocoa and go to bed. I was thinking, what’s going on? What I didn’t realise was that all this stuff about movies that I was taking in, would a few years later become one of the big strands of my life. It began when a friend asked ‘Why don’t you start using films to talk about faith and life?’

“I think about Moses, the way he was looking after sheep after he’d been a prince in Egypt. He got to know the desert but must have thought his life was over. He didn’t realise that he was actually in training for the next part when he was going to lead people across the desert. So I think of it in those terms. I didn’t realise that I was taking in stuff that was really going to be helpful in the future. I felt like a failure.

“It also opened my eyes to the whole thing about being a Christian. It’s not about having the perfect life. Which I know probably sounds obvious. But it just showed me a different angle on all of that. That it is possible to be a Christian and be an absolute mess. There’s a great saying: ‘Don’t be tempted to confuse your insides with other people’s outsides.’ You look at them and think they’re all sorted and meanwhile you know the mess you’ve got in your own life. We’re just all trying to look sorted but we all have our moments when we need each other and we need God.”

It’s interesting that around the time that Dave Hopwood was inspired to write The Bloke's Bible, our beloved Founder and Editor the late Steve Legg, was hatching plans to launch Sorted Magazine. Though the physical formats were different, their visions had many similarities. The Bloke's Bible is a stonking good read. With wit and wisdom Dave unpacks timeless human themes. Some parts are very blokey and Dave writes about the reality of male vices with heroic candour. I asked him if an updated version were published what he would add.

Dave revealed: “I wrote The Bloke's Bible from a place of brokenness and honesty, with a desire to say that though I was a Christian man, I was still full of struggles and wrestling. I wanted to open up some subjects that often don't get addressed, but to do it with humour and reality. If I were to write it now I might well include websites and organisations that offer help with some of the issues. I might also include a kind of trigger warning at the start.”

How Dave came to faith

Dave (pictured above) explained: “It’s unusual. I grew up in a Christian home, was always aware of God and Jesus. I read Run Baby Run when I was 12, which is one of those books I’ve just been reading all my life really. It’s about Nicky Cruz who’s in a gang in America and he got converted and has an incredible, amazing story! But I didn’t tell anybody I was a Christian outside of my church group so I kind of was living two lives. I started working in a bank when I was 16, and not long after we went away for the weekend, me and my sister. We went to Truro Cathedral and heard David Watson speak.

“At the end of it I started, for the first time in my life, just thanking God for who He is. And I felt the Holy Spirit really powerfully! I mean really powerfully! I felt like I was floating! So I go home and I tell my Dad and he explains to me about the Holy Spirit. He prays for me and I speak in tongues. I was seventeen. Then, several things happen, but in effect, eighteen months go by before I really make a commitment. So my story is, I’m filled with the Holy Spirit, I speak in tongues, but I’m still living a double life. It wasn’t till eighteen months later that I made a commitment in such a way that my whole life changed. So I tell that story now because I think all our journeys are a bit messed up aren’t they? They’re not tidy. That was a big part of it. And that was through going on holiday to Lee Abbey Conference Centre in North Devon when I finally you know, crossed the line.”

How Dave started writing

Dave explained: “It goes back to when I was very young, before I could actually write. I have a very vivid memory. I’d seen someone come and fix our TV and fill out a form and so I got a bit of paper and all I could do was squiggles on it. But I just remember really wanting to be able to write like that. And then in the years that followed I used to write very little short stories. The first one I wrote was called Basil the Friendly Ghost ‘cos I was very into Scooby Doo and stuff like that. So that was from very early on.

“And I’ve got a very happy memory of a school teacher. This is why school teachers are so important. I think I was about eight or nine and we had a teacher called Mr Tuck and he did two things. He got me to read my stories out in front of the whole class, which was amazing! They weren’t very good but, y’know, it was amazing! And he read to me, what is still one of my favourite books, called The Otterbury Incident written by Cecil Day Lewis. It’s about two gangs of boys. But I missed the end when I was ill, and so Mr Tuck lent me his very own copy and it still means so much to me. So, y’know, he kind of saw something, even when I was little and wanting to encourage me with my writing really. And then over the years I tried to write more novel type of stories.

“Then at seventeen or eighteen, when I became a Christian, someone suggested an idea for a sketch; a drama about if God had a secretary, and you had to go through a secretary rather than straight to God. I still write sketches now but for years that’s what I was doing, writing drama sketches with a group performing them. And much later those sketches got published by Church House Publishing. But always really there was this idea of wanting to write books of some kind.”

Movies

Dave’s book Movies and Me is a collection of his thoughts about movies. He explained: “When I started to use films at Lee Abbey it was like it helped me come out of my mess. I loved the idea that you could take something that was not Christian and yet God could use it. I also find that films help us to be honest about life and faith. And I use even films that are anti-Christian sometimes! If I can find a way to use them to lead us back to God, it’s so exciting!”

Writing workshops

It’s worth remembering here, that for ten years, Dave was Creative Arts Director at the Lee Abbey Conference Centre in North Devon. A humble man of considerable creative talents, he lights up when I ask him about the varied writing workshops he’s led over the years. He unpacks some of the engaging writing exercises he’s created to help participants have fun and play with words. He’s clearly a creative risk taker, a people person and a gifted encourager of expression and freedom. He enthused: “I’d like to do a lot more workshops. I want to help people get ideas out and explore them, particularly to not be afraid of sort of playing with the bible. Y’know, I just say to people, just imagine, just imagine what it was like!”

It was such a privilege to chat with Dave and pick his brains. I came away inspired to develop my own writing further and to explore creative collaborations and networks. Dave has had his share of troubles in life and I was moved when he confided: “We comfort other people with the comfort we’ve been given. I’m a great believer in that.”

Meet Dave in person at Scargill events.

Subscribe to Dave’s weekly newsletter here.

Discover more of Dave’s writing here.

Watch a short video message about his work and website from Dave below.

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

Dear reader

I hope you had as much fun reading this month’s issue of Sorted Digital as I had putting it together! It’s been energising to change the pace a little bit. The familiar format will return next month.

Until then, God bless,

Val Fraser, Editor

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An excerpt from the book Paper Thongs by our beloved founder, the late Steve Legg

Introduction

I seem to have been blessed with an uncanny ability to get myself into embarrassing situations. Only the other day I managed to lean back, like Derek Trotter in Only Fools and Horses, and fall backwards into a cupboard. Later on, as I waited in the playground to pick up my kids from school, I was playing with a water pistol I happened to have in my pocket (as you do). One misdirected tweak of the trigger and there I was, in full view of all the mums, with a disconcerting wet patch on the front of my trousers. Then, when I got home, I walked straight into the patio door.

You see, however much I like to see myself as Mr Cool, sadly the evidence suggests otherwise.

In all the time I’ve known God, I’ve heard Him talk to me in many different ways. He speaks to me through His Word; through conversations with friends; through speakers at church and at other events; through the places I’ve travelled to and the experiences I’ve had; even through the untimely mishaps of my daily routines. And He speaks straight to my heart.

Through both the good times and the bad, I’ve been constantly aware of God’s voice. I’ve watched Him at work in my life, and He’s taught me some valuable lessons. Some of these have been learned the hard way, through struggle and heartache; others through sheer, out and out slog. This book offers a candid account of some of those insights, and the often bizarre situations God has chosen to use to teach them to me.

I hope you’ll laugh a lot; I know you’ll cringe just a little. And as you read of my antics and embarrassments, perhaps you’ll be able to empathise in some small way with my struggles and misadventures, and hear God speaking to you through them, just as He has to me.

Paper Thongs | Chapter One: Tricks and Treats

I do comedy magic. If you don’t find it funny, it’s just magic. Now, of course, it’s not real magic, it’s just tricks. I’d hate you to think I’m a witch and burn this book; especially so if you’re flicking through it in a Christian bookshop. That would be terrible for trade.

My occupation does tend to raise a few eyebrows when I introduce myself to new people. Even my wife, Rebekah, laughed and answered, “No, really, what do you do?” when she was first chatting me up. (If you stop reading for a second and listen hard enough, you will hear her protesting across time and space that she never chatted me up, but as a man, I can assure you, she did.) She recovered admirably when I insisted that really, I am a magician and an evangelist, too. I use tricks and escapology to communicate the Good News of Jesus to young and old all over the country and beyond.

I’ve been performing since 1988 and I love my job. Standing on stage, telling people about Jesus and performing tricks are some of my favourite things. I’m passionate about communicating the Gospel in ways that people understand, in showing people that the Christian faith is relevant to their lives, and that being a Christian is not about wearing sandals (with socks, of course) and waving a tambourine (unless, of course, sandals and tambourines happen to be your own personal favourite thing). I love using tricks to demonstrate a point and laughter to help people listen. I consider myself truly blessed because every day I get to do what I enjoy most.

And I get to work with great characters, too. I’ve met and made friends with so many people who share the same passions as I do. Perhaps one of my greatest and longest-standing friends is the well known singer, songwriter and author, Ishmael. He and I have performed together in hundreds of venues, sharing with tens of thousands of people the message that Jesus loves them and wants to walk with them through their lives. We’ve shared good times and sad times and we’ve had more than a few laughs, many of them at my expense, although I’m sure Ishy would beg to differ.

One particular time, Ishmael and I were sharing the stage in a large, thousand-seater auditorium. Part of the act was to get a child up and ask them to give me one of their socks. I generally feel the need to make a comment about the smell and state of the sock, before placing it in my magic bag and asking the audience if they think I can turn a single sock into a pair. Of course everyone knows that I can, so I put my hand into the bag and bring out a – pear. Pretty straightforward and very juvenile, but it is usually sufficient to raise some laughs and a round of applause.

Not this time, though. Ishmael had decided that he wanted to be the funny man; he had seen me do the same trick over and over again and he had tampered with my bag. This time, I called a young lad up onto the stage, was rude about his socks and played with the audience until I was finally ready to put my hand in the bag and announce as usual: “Ladies and gentlemen, you all witnessed me put one sock into the bag, now here, as if by magic, I have a . . .” But instead of pulling out a pear as expected, I pulled out a . . . battery, which gave me quite a shock (boom, boom).

I was totally flabbergasted. The battery must have weighed the same as the pear and I hadn’t noticed the switch at all. I yelled, “Ishmael, I’m going to get you!” and ended up chasing him around the stage like a mad Duracell Bunny, which everyone found hysterical, and most probably thought it was planned. It wasn’t, and I was thrown just a bit, but the audience loved it.

Our lives can be like that, we can create routines, build traditions and make plans but things will come along and catch us off guard. Events break into our world and throw the plans out of the window, crashing through our routines as though they were made of nothing at all.

We like to protect ourselves with family and friends, with nice houses and cars. We work at careers and get insurance, but still things happen that are beyond our control. Good things and bad things; the daughter we’ve doted on brings home a boyfriend with a ring through his nose; illness comes; a beautiful woman appears just as we’ve settled happily into bachelordom; maybe we lose our job, or our spouse tells us they are leaving us for someone else; things that rock our world and shatter our dreams.

It can seem like the end of the world, but times like this can signal a new direction; exciting new opportunities to see what God has in store for us. The one thing we can be sure of when the goal posts seem to be moving around is that God knows exactly what is going on. Psalm 139 verse 16 assures us that before we were born, God knew every day we would live, and in Jeremiah 29 verse 11, God reminds us: “I know the plans I have for you . . . plans to prosper you and not to harm you.”

When we align our lives with Him, when we give Him control of the plans, then we can relax in the knowledge that no matter what life throws at us, God is with us and will never leave us, as He guides us on the adventure He has in mind. Instead of spending our time building fences around our neat little lives, let’s sit back and watch to see what amazing surprises God has in store whether that store sells groceries or electricals.

And never trust Ishmael with fruit.

The late Steve Legg was the Founder and Editor of Sorted. Between 1988 and 2024 he travelled the length and breadth of the UK and 30 countries overseas, covering a staggering 1.5 million miles on the road, using a crazy mix of comedy, trickery and mystery to communicate the Christian message to young and old.

Pemberton Station

By Jeff Lucas

I was frustrated and angry, and I slammed the front door hard behind me, a noisy amen to what I felt had been an exasperating evening. My church House Group meeting was the reason for the angst; we had spent an hour or so chatting about the supernatural. Two of our number had just come back from overseas travel, where they had apparently witnessed some rather impressive miracles of healing. We had chatted about the need for us to see more genuine Holy Spirit activity where we live. I should have been inspired, but was irritated instead. I’m sure that it’s rather wonderful for the Chinese church to be raising the dead, particularly if you’re Chinese and you happened to be around to see the corpse involved suddenly perk up, but it’s not such fun at a distance.

Frankly, being treated to a diet of distant stories about God working overtime elsewhere, or in the past, is a bit like being starving and homeless, and peering longingly through the bushes at a royal garden party. You might start off merely salivating, but after a while you get a bit outraged at your own lack of cucumber sandwiches. Hence my door slamming routine. How come, I raged, God couldn’t show up a bit more around here? Yes, I know all the but-we-live-in-a-culture-of-unbelief apologetics routines, but why couldn’t God help us clear the aforementioned cultural fog with a few faith building activities that might get our eyes popping and our hearts quickened?

As I slammed the front door, I think I closed a door in my own heart as well. I decided that talk of miracles was tiring, and felt the need to bolt and double lock myself off from prophecies that aren’t terribly prophetic. I had been in enough charismatic meetings where “words of knowledge” were given that were less than exciting, and where apparently meaningless revelations were greeted with way too much enthusiasm.

Perhaps you know the kind of thing I mean. In the midst of a time of hyper worship, a wide eyed prophetic type stands to his feet, breathless and slightly ecstatic. Apparently he has news: “I sense a breakthrough in the third heaven as we drill through the core of accumulated crustiness with our intercessory Black and Deckers. Yes, there is a well that has been bunged up since Charles the First (for it was closed off spiritually upon the death of one of his spaniels; the poor thing expired when the King was passing through this town) and now it is springing to life again, Hallelujah!”

What really freaks me out is that everyone who hears this twaddle then feels the need to pretend that they fully understand and resonate with what is being said, although I reckon that, privately, they haven’t the slightest clue. I want to stand up and scream: “What in blue blazes was all that about then?” But hyper-mysticism carries its own force field. When you say that you don’t understand what the “prophet” is rattling on about, people look at you with pity, because you’re not one of the spiritual, initiated elite. “Never mind dear, you just need to go deeper. One day you’ll see what we see . . .”

Do I sound angry? That’s because I am. Not only do I get exhausted and demoralized conversing with “prophets” who are more International Men of Mystery than Austin Powers, but I feel real concern for young Christians who feel utterly disenfranchised by this Gnostic drivel. And exactly that happened during a “spiritual” weekend held in a church that I know recently. Brand new Christians came out of meetings feeling like they must surely not be saved, seeing as they couldn’t begin to relate to the intergalactic mush being dumped on them in Jesus’ Name.

And I’ve been on the “brink of breakthrough” as a result of those “revival is just around the corner” prophecies for so long that I feel like a mountain climber. Even as I write now, I feel again the quiet sense of rage that caused me to slam the door so hard back then: I was officially retiring from being a charismatic. That was very much that. I stomped off to bed and didn’t pray any goodnight prayers. I was in a sulk.

The next morning I awoke with the rasping throat and foggy head of a heavy cold. Wondering if perhaps I might have been smitten by this plague as a judgment for my stroppiness (having turned my back on healing for good) I decided to request it just one more time.

I tried the various prayer-for-healing approaches that were then in style, beginning firstly with the soft and gentle Californian whisper of the healing prayer, Vineyard approach. This is the kind of healing prayer that I particularly like, because it involves no shouting or massaging of anyone’s body parts, just a reverentially casual easy does it request that God might do something. I cooed and whispered and prayed that I’d get better, and nothing happened at all.

I decided to switch to the more Teutonic aggression of a Rienhard Bonnke’s Pentecostal prayer. Bonnke is a delightful German evangelist, and his prayer style operates on the belief that while God isn’t deaf, He isn’t nervous either. Secondary injuries occasionally occur during this kind of praying; you may be requesting relief from earache, but could find yourself with a nasty case of whiplash resulting from the undeniably sincere but marginally over-physical prayer wrestling that might ensue. I’ve experienced a few of these fervent punch ups, during which I’ve had my ears boxed, my stomach jabbed, and even had a brand new jacket covered in fat because the over enthusiastic ministry team soaked it in truly authentic olive oil from the Holy Land. They did at least realize their error and paid the dry cleaning bill.

Anyway, I placed both hands on my head and roared a rebuke at the cold germs that I felt would surely scare the hell out of the devil. For two or three minutes I bound and loosed, rebuked, cast out and generally nuked everything I could think of. So Bonnke was I, I even found myself praying in a slight Germanic accent. Remember the fat sentry in Hogan’s Heroes who used to run around yelling “Raus! Raus!”? That was me, commanding the cold to “Raus! Raus!” in Jesus’ name. But it didn’t want to raus. I said the Amen with a congested sniffle. That night I went to bed armed with a Vicks inhaler for each nostril, two boxes of Kleenex and a drip feed of Night Nurse. Suffice it to say that faith was not at its highest level. The door, as it were, was slammed, locked, bolted, and I was thinking of nailing it up permanently.

But while most of the time God waits to be wanted, there are occasions when He will come as a loving burglar, scaling our pathetic defensive walls and flicking off our security systems, overriding them with what at first seems to be unwelcome love. The Fatherly intruder came while I slept; perhaps the only time my mind and mouth are still enough to allow Him a word in edgeways. I dreamed the same, strange dream over and over, and even as I share it with you, my perplexed reader, I feel like I am broadcasting from the charismatic Twilight Zone. Bear with me if you can. In the dream, I was standing on a railway station; Pemberton Station. A railway official stood on the platform and chatted with me while I waited for a train that never actually came. His chat filled me in on all kinds of information about this place called Pemberton. When I awoke, the dream had not evaporated like the morning dew (as most of my dreams do). It was crystal clear, vivid and sharp in my memory. And as I lay there in the warm coma that is called waking up, it occurred to me that I would bump into someone called Pemberton that very day, and that I would tell them what the railway porter had told me, and that it would speak to them of hope, and of better days ahead.

This was unusual, strange and would take a major bit of acrobatic organization from God to make such a thing happen; especially as I had never met anyone called Pemberton before.

I was due to speak at Equipped to Lead, a day of leadership training that would be attended by around sixty people, not exactly a cast of thousands from which to pick a Pemberton. I drove excitedly to the hall where we were due to gather, rushed in and grabbed the list of pre-registered delegates. My feather-light heart turned to lead as I scanned the list and my eyes hurried down in search of p for Pemberton. There were none present. It was like a bad taste in my mouth, yet another disappointment to compound my feeling that locked doors were good doors. If faith were a vital sign, I would have been pronounced dead at that moment.

Just before the first session was due to begin, a breathless couple walked quickly up to the registration table, and announced that they wanted to join the course, and that they hadn’t had a chance to pre-register. Would it be okay? I smiled my agreement, asked for their names, and almost fell over. They were Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton. I think I said something giftedly stupid like “Nice to meet you, I was on your station all last night”, but then asked if I could talk to them in the break. I couldn’t believe it; suddenly belief was believable again.

I got to tell them my British Rail dream, which they said made good sense, but I asked them to think on it, share it with whoever they wanted to (I do believe in personal prophecy – but not private prophecy). We laughed and cried some together and they telephoned me a few weeks later to say, yes, they had thought, prayed and shared the word I gave them with trusted friends, and did feel that God had clearly spoken.

Lest this chapter end with everybody living happily ever after, with John Wayne riding over the sunset-kissed hill on a grinning horse, let me give a little postscript for your prayers, if you will. A prophetic word is not a sick note from God that excuses and exempts you from trial; the Pembertons’ have faced health challenges in recent months, please pray for them, if you will. But I cannot deny the fact that, when I was worn out and faithless, ready to jump the charismatic ship for good and wave goodbye to the gifts of the Holy Spirit, that God picked my lock, and my brain . . . and beautifully broke through my little defence system.

I still crave a bit more quality control, and some honest talk, around the prophetic. But my pendulum swing of unkind dismissiveness and outright hostility to God was wrong. Burglars from heaven are welcome. Better still, don’t slam that door.

Jeff Lucas (pictured above) is an international author, speaker and broadcaster. He is the bestselling author of 34 books, broadcasts a weekly radio show with Premier Radio and is a monthly contributor for the UK magazine Christianity. Jeff writes daily bible reading notes Life with Lucas in printed and digital format. Connect with Jeff here: jefflucas.org, also Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Jefflucasuk

Review | Porsche 911 Carrera GTS: “incredibly responsive”

By Tim Barnes-Clay

The Porsche 911 Carrera GTS has always occupied a sweet spot in the 911 range, blending everyday usability with serious and unadulterated performance.

With the latest generation, Porsche has taken a bold step by ushering in the first performance-hybrid system ever fitted to a production 911. But rather than compromising the German sports car’s character, the new T-Hybrid technology enhances everything enthusiasts love about the iconic sports car.

You see, at the heart of the new Carrera GTS is a newly developed 3.6-litre flat-six boxer lump paired with the innovative hybrid system. The result is a combined output of 541 PS and 610 Nm of torque; a significant increase of 61 PS over its predecessor. Despite the addition of electrification, Porsche has kept weight gain remarkably low, with the entire system adding just 50 kg.

Anyway, the star of the show is the electrically assisted turbocharger, or eTurbo. Unlike old-school compressors, which can suffer from lag at low engine speeds, the eTurbo features an electric motor placed on the turbo shaft. This can instantly spin the turbocharger to optimal speed, delivering immediate throttle response. The effect is dramatic. Poke is linear, urgent and incredibly responsive.

Porsche has also developed a fresh eight-speed PDK transmission specifically for the T-Hybrid system. Integrated within the gearbox is a compact electric motor producing up to 40 kW (54 PS) and 150 Nm of torque. This motor provides instantaneous assistance when accelerating, helps recover energy during braking and coasting, and even replaces the traditional starter motor and alternator. The integration is so seamless that you don’t really notice where combustion clout ends, and electric support begins.

Powering the hybrid system is a compact 400-volt battery with a gross capacity of 1.9 kWh. Weighing approximately 27 kg, it’s no larger than a conventional starter battery and is positioned under the front bonnet to optimise weight distribution. The system works continuously in the background to improve responsiveness and efficiency.

The new boxer engine is just as awe-inspiring. With a capacity increase from 3.0 to 3.6 litres, as mentioned above, and solid roller cam followers developed for motorsports use, it can produce 485 PS even without electric assistance. Innovative VarioCam technology delivers high power and efficiency across the entire range of revolutions.

Performance figures underline the success of the package. The Carrera GTS accelerates from 0-62 mph in just 3.0 seconds with Launch Control and reaches a top speed of 194 mph. The force whips your head back, and you end up grinning like a Cheshire cat; even on the gloomiest of days. Indeed, the Porsche feels sharper and more responsive in every driving situation.

The up-to-the-minute 911 Carrera GTS proves, then, that hybrid tech can enhance rather than dilute a modern-day sports car. By combining electrification with the unmistakable character of the 911, Porsche has created one of the most complete and technologically advanced GTS models ever produced.

Fast Facts: Porsche 911 Carrera GTS

• Max speed: 194mph

• 0-62 mph: 3.0 secs

• MPG: 25.9 – 27.2

• Powerplant: 3,591 cc, six-cylinder with electric turbocharger (eTurbo)

• Power (PS): 541

• CO2: 234g/km

• Base price: £137,900.00

Tim Barnes-Clay (pictured above) is a freelance journalist with more than three decades worth of industry experience under his belt. He test-drives the latest cars and attends new vehicle press launches around the world. The dad-of-three has a postgraduate diploma in broadcast journalism and has been a presenter and producer at ITV. He has also worked as a radio reporter and continues to present videos and record voiceovers. Connect with Tim here: Insta @tbarnesclay & TikTok @timauto_

Bear Grylls - Wild Reckoning

by Val Fraser

Wild Reckoning is a series in which Bear Grylls, alongside a team of mediators, psychologists, and survival mentors, guides participants through intense emotional journeys that combine conflict resolution and counselling with the raw, revealing power of nature.

I watched this series with great interest and found it to be a remarkable, surprising exploration of the impact of the outdoors. I was drawn into the feuding families, broken friendships, estranged siblings, and couples facing life-changing decisions. I got a glimpse into the softer side of tough guy Bear Grylls; warm, fatherly, incredibly accepting and deeply caring about the struggles of others. He seems to be loving the challenge. Grylls said: “I think it’s one of the most rewarding and beautiful things I’ve been involved in; it’s just real lives, real emotions and real relationships.”

Grylls explained why the Welsh countryside was so pivotal in helping people open up on this show, he said: “I think it slows us down and there’s nowhere to hide. You can’t storm off. You can’t just pick up your phone. You can’t just get in the car. And the wild doesn’t judge, but you can’t hide. Masks don’t last very long when you’re cold and hungry and scared and it’s just the two of you. We’ll put the framework there, but you’ve got to do it. That can be painful and very difficult. And we always, in relational issues, like to hide behind things.

“We blame this, we blame that, we have things to hide behind. In the wild, we don’t. And that’s why it’s a vulnerable, difficult place, and that’s why a lot of people haven’t gone to that before. But it’s also, in my experience, the oldest and the most reliable way to find healing, we’re healed through travelling together. You can’t fight each other hanging off a rock face; you’re both gonna lose. You can’t fight each other when you’re trying to stop your raft sinking; you’re both gonna get wet. You have to work together. And through this process of working together, can you take that a step further into the issues that you’re having?

As you might expect, the BBC’s Bear Grylls - Wild Reckoning, has off-the-scale production values. I relished the exquisitely composed shots, intimate close ups, judicious editing and dreamy drone shots of the stunning Welsh countryside. It is refreshing, uplifting and visually delicious and a credit to all those involved. The 16 part series is available on BBC iplayer.

Season Nine Running Wild now airing

There are also several seasons of Running Wild still available on BBC iplayer. Season Nine is airing on Fox, and streaming on Hulu, or Sky if you’re in the UK.

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

Like many readers and friends, I still miss the beloved Founder and Editor of Sorted, the late Steve Legg. I miss his support and direction and backup. I miss his encouragement when facing difficult editing decisions. I miss our friendly exchanges. It has been comforting and uplifting to read and publish some of his personal thoughts on faith, written back before I knew he would become terminally ill. I trust they will comfort and uplift you too.

And who knew Jeff Lucas could get so hilariously angry? Thanks for being so honest and giving us all a good laugh Jeff!

Until next time, God bless,

Val Fraser, Editor

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When Ian was diagnosed with osteoporosis, he was just trying to make sense of what it meant for his future. But he wasn’t given much guidance. He explained: “I wasn’t offered any kind of support, guidance, or help in how to manage it.” Ian carried on with life. His fractures healed; his condition stayed stable, and for nearly a decade he assumed things would continue that way. Looking back, he recognises now that his lack of concern came from not fully understanding the condition.“A little bit of ignorance is bliss,” he reflected.

Ten years later, everything changed. Without warning, Ian suffered another spinal fracture. The physical impact was big for him but the mental toll was even greater. He continued: “I didn’t get any warning signs. It caught me off guard.” He found himself constantly worrying about what he could safely do, whether things would deteriorate further, and what his future might look like. Anxiety crept in, and for the first time, he felt genuinely overwhelmed. This turning point pushed him to seek out support, something he admits, didn’t come naturally.

Ian’s first step was contacting the Royal Osteoporosis Society and joining his local support group in Essex. The group became a source of comfort and knowledge. Guest speakers, shared stories, and simple conversations over tea helped Ian realise he wasn’t alone. The sessions offered reassurance, practical advice, and crucially, hope. Hearing from men older than him who were still active and thriving helped Ian rebuild his confidence.

For Ian, the Men’s Network has been a turning point in managing anxiety and understanding his condition. It has given him a space where he feels supported, understood, and empowered.A dedicated men’s space, he says, offers something unique: “Sometimes it’s just nice to talk to someone, to put your mind at rest.” He believes it will be especially valuable for newly diagnosed men who may feel isolated or unsure where to turn.

For more information about the ROS online community click here Royal Osteoporosis Society Online Community or to find your nearest ROS Support Group click here Support Groups.

Photo Credit: Otto Norin Unsplash

Editor’s Note: As Canada is preparing to mark the 159th anniversary of Canadian Confederation on July 1st, I invited Miles Protter to reflect on his Canadian connections and share some relevant thoughts for the discerning readers of Sorted Digital. Never one to shy away from strong opinions, here’s what Miles came up with!

Opinion: Canadian Prime Minister, Mark Carney, demonstrates a refreshing masculinity

By Miles Protter

The Canadian Prime Minister, Mark Carney, has serious professional credentials; an economics PhD from Oxford, and two stints as a central bank governor for both Canada and the UK. As PM he’s trying to steer his country through stormy relationships, diversify trade and defence, and encourage mid-sized nations to work together.

But I think he also embodies a quiet, dignified, and mature form of masculinity. I don’t know him personally, but from what I observe, his character and decency are a refreshing alternative to what’s on offer from many leaders.

What makes me think he is different? He seems wholehearted. In the Team Canada dressing room after the first World Cup match, he was near tears telling the exhausted young men how proud he was of them. They almost couldn’t let it in. He said their character was more important than their impressive victory. Carney said: “You’ve taught the nation a lesson today . . . I hope all the kids watching take that away.”

He’s done the same for other Canadian sports teams whether it’s hockey, baseball or football. It’s not about him. He’s like the best coach, or an encouraging father.

He seems humble. Carney doesn’t mind telling one on himself or being the butt of a joke. Leaning down to a schoolgirl at an event, he told her: “Eat your broccoli unless you want to end up short like me.”

After a speech on the state of the economy, a reporter shouted the Leader of the Opposition had accused Carney of being badly educated in economics. Carney replied: “Did he? Can I take back my earlier comments?”

He seems self-controlled. Carney focuses on the issue, not the individual. Many times, I have seen him divert a conversation from confrontation to a win-win. He refuses to respond to, or defend himself from threats, taunts and accusations. Concentrating on what he can control he doesn’t seem to allow provocateurs to get under his skin.

He seems to back himself. At the beginning of his term, Carney was often clumsy when responding to French-speaking reporters. He’d apologise for his language skills but keep going, even though for some it was painful. He didn’t care. He seemed to be doing his best and was determined to learn.

He seems to care about people. Carney’s book Value(s) describes how the excesses of the market economy have undermined our commitment to human dignity and fairness. As a central banker he had to clean up the mess left by bankers who nearly destroyed the world economy and then escaped unpunished. A practising Roman Catholic he seems to have been heavily influenced by Pope Francis’s work on economic justice.

He seems to speak truth to power. Remember his Davos speech in January? Carney is not afraid to say our world economy has been ruptured and name the reality facing many small and medium sized nations.

His faith seems authentic. Although Carney doesn’t try to hide his faith, it seems to be his private business, not a promotion for a voter base. We all need good role models to demonstrate how to behave, speak, treat others, and deal with challenges. The masculinity Carney embodies, however, seems generous and based in freedom and dignity. This doesn’t require money or power but is available to all.

Miles Protter (pictured above) was raised in Canada, studied economics at Cambridge followed by a career in investment banking. He then pursued a new vocation in leadership development, eventually moving to Australia with his family. He’s actively involved in men’s ministry.

I only knew Jane for just 48 hours

By Jeff Lucas

She was a beaming face in the crowd at a retreat that I was addressing in the USA, the picture of an enthusiastic Christian, which she was not. Her laughing eyes were not the result of faith; she was just glad to be around positive, happy people. Jane’s seventeen-year-old life had been a catalogue of disappointment and rejection; her home smashed suddenly by divorce, her hopes dashed by the cold reality that neither parent really wanted her. She had been shunted around from one distant relative to another, like a pinball flipped carelessly away. Somehow, she had held on to the ability to smile. The Christian retreat in the blistering US hills was a shimmering, sweaty endurance test for us; for her, it was a cool oasis, where she could soak up the atmosphere of laughter and love, just for a while.

Three things happened to Jane in those 48 hours. The first could have snuffed out any possibility of her finding faith forever. The campground was being shared by another group of rather rabid, monochrome Christians who apparently knew just a bit more than God and were eager to let everyone else know it. They spotted her black Metalica t-shirt and pounced like evangelistic thugs.

“Do you listen to rock music?” they demanded, without troubling to introduce themselves. Jane did, and was happy to advertise the fact. Whereupon Jane was advised that God would surely send her straight to a burning hell if she did not revise her taste in music. The God of the Universe was apparently a dedicated music critic; huge consignments of human beings would apparently be barbecued if their choice of CDs differed from His own. Jane told them to mind their own business. They stomped off, no doubt to pray for her wretched soul, and to listen to a few Des O’Connor tracks.

The second thing that happened to Jane was that she became a Christian. It was during the Saturday evening meeting. The worship was warm without being intense, and Jane, without invitation, walked to the front, took the microphone in her trembling hands, and told everyone that she was a thirty second old believer. With a rare eloquence, she thanked the group for being so kind to her, for being part of the reason that she had decided to follow Christ. A welcome party broke out. People clapped and cheered and lined up to hug Jane.

The third thing that happened to Jane was that she bumped into the patrolling zealots again. Roving the area in pursuit of anyone who might look flippantly happy, they quizzed her this time about how much television she watched (relaxation is wasteful), what friends she had (the unsaved are dangerous scum) but never enquired as to whether she was even a Christian. Kay and I found her sitting under a tree, her eyes bloodshot, her crestfallen face wet with tears. “I hate this stuff! This is why I didn’t become a Christian earlier! What right do they have to talk to me like that? Who are they to tell me if I can watch TV or not?”

We talked with Jane for about half an hour, and tried to gently explain that following Jesus was costly, but one was not required to follow the rules of bullying bigots. We let her know that God was not firing up a barbecue just for her, ready to toss her hell-bound even when she made mistakes or strayed into sin. We just encouraged her, and prayed with her for a few moments too. We did nothing costly, sacrificial, or heroic. It was just a chat.

It was time to leave, and our car was waiting. We hugged Jane goodbye, and she seemed reluctant to let us go. Her parting words live with me now, years later. Her farewell both haunts and inspires me, unlikely that it is that we will ever see her again, this side of forever. Her eyes bright, and her tears gone, she smiled a massive grin.

“Goodbye Mum. Goodbye Dad”.

Sometimes, it doesn’t take much.

Jeff Lucas (pictured above) is an international author, speaker and broadcaster. He is the bestselling author of 34 books, broadcasts a weekly radio show with Premier Radio and is a monthly contributor for the UK magazine Christianity. Jeff writes daily bible reading notes Life with Lucas in printed and digital format. Connect with Jeff here: jefflucas.org, also Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Jefflucasuk

Get your Life Back

by John Eldredge

Editor’s Note: What follows is an excerpt from the introduction to John Eldredge’s popular book Get Your Life Back published by Nelson Books. Used with John’s permission.

John writes: We’ve been sucked into a pace of life nobody’s enjoying. Then there’s the deluge of media coming at us in a sort of mesmerising digital spell.

We’re spending three hours a day using apps on our phones, ten hours viewing media, consuming enough information each week to crash a laptop! We talk about unplugging, but we’re enchanted – by the endless social media circus of love and hatred, the vapid, alarming, sensational, and unforgivable. We’re snagged by every new notification. And while we’ve always had our individual struggles and heartbreaks to deal with, now we have the tragedies of the entire world delivered to us hourly on our mobile devices.

This is all very hard on the soul. Traumatising in fact. Exposure to traumatic events can traumatise us, and we’re getting lots of it in our feed. It’s like we’ve been swept into the gravitational field of a digital black hole that is sucking our lives from us.

So there’s all that. But everybody’s talking about that. What got my attention was what was happening to me as a person.

I found myself flinching when a friend texted and asked for some time. I didn’t want to open email for fear of the demands I’d find there. I had a shorter and shorter fuse in traffic. I felt numb to tragic news reports. It made me wonder – am I becoming a less loving person? I had little capacity for relationships and the things that bring me life – a walk in the woods, dinner with friends, a cold plunge in a mountain lake. When I did steal a moment for something life-giving, I was so distracted I couldn’t enjoy it.

Then I realised – it wasn’t a failure of love or compassion. These were symptoms of a soul pushed too hard, strung out, haggard, fried. My soul just can’t do life at the speed of smartphones. But I was asking it to; everybody’s asking theirs too.

I’m guessing you’ve experienced something similar.

John Eldredge (pictured above) is a best selling author, counsellor and a teacher. He is also president of Wild At Heart a ministry devoted to helping people discover the heart of God, recover their own heart’s in God’s love, and learn to live in God’s kingdom. John and his wife, Stasi, live in Colorado Springs, Colorado, USA.

Indy, Solo and Two Babies

By Dave Hopwood

If Han Solo wanted to meet George Lucas he couldn’t make it happen, George Lucas would have to do it. If Spielberg wanted to meet Indiana Jones, Indy couldn’t make it happen.

George Lucas directed Star Wars and Han Solo was of course one of the heroes in it. But Solo has no control over the film, Lucas does. He’s the creator of it. The same with Spielberg. He created the character of Indiana Jones. Indy has no power over Spielberg. So the directors would have to write themselves into the story for a meeting to occur.

CS Lewis once wrote this about Hamlet meeting Shakespeare. (Yes, I nicked the idea!)

You could say we are like Indy and Han Solo, we are not the ones with full access to life’s story. We are limited, we are held within the story, real life characters with limited power and vision.

On YouTube there is a short video about two babies having a discussion in the womb. One believes there is life after delivery, the other does not. One believes in Mother, the other does not. We’ve never seen her, the baby argues, how can she be real. The other says that they live within their mother, she is all around, supplying their world. Without her they could not exist.

It’s a great allegory about our limited vision and understanding. You can watch it if you search on YouTube for “A Conversation Between Twins in the Womb”. It ends with one baby saying that sometimes they can get a sense of their Mother, if they stop for a while, take a beat and listen. Which reminds me of a quote from the film Chariots of Fire. A line from athlete Eric Liddell’s sister: “Your head’s so full of running, you’ve no room for standing still.”

When the babies in the womb are born their mother will be part of their story. Like the Great Creator writing himself into the story of humankind. We couldn’t make the meeting happen, he had to do it. He had to direct things. He had to make the choice to meet us. As he did in Galilee 2000 years back.

Dave Hopwood (pictured above) loves communicating the Bible using contemporary media, humour and stories. He is author of a series of books retelling the Bible including The Shed, The Bloke’s Bible, and Raging Grace. He passionately believes that the Bible was and is aimed at ordinary people, and that it is earthy, funny and incisive in the way it tells of God’s interaction with the world. These days he spends much of his time retelling the Bible using anything that seems useful, TV, movies, internet, adverts, news stories etc. He speaks at various places and regularly publishes ideas and material via his website: www.davehopwood.com

Game changers

By Tony Vino

Here’s a great little joke writing game to play with your friends next time you’re down the pub. If you don’t have any friends, just play it with strangers, they will think you’re funny, become your friends, problem solved. It’s called the I’ve Got A Job game. You don’t have to have a job to play it. In fact the more unemployed you are the more time you have to play it.

It goes like this, someone says: “I’ve got a job.” Everyone replies: “What is it?” They say what job they have, everyone replies: “How’s it going?” Then comes the punchline.

It’s easier than you think. I teach the game in my online comedy course. I also do it with live audiences when compering a comedy night. It’s magic, jokes explode out of nowhere. The only danger is if the audience’s improvised jokes get bigger laughs than the ones prepared by us comedians, everyone thinks: “I can do this better than you” and demand their money back.

We hear a joke forward but they are written in reverse. Comedy is all about timing and that timing goes anti-clockwise. You start with the punchline and work backwards. Just think of a phrase to describe how a job is going. For example: “Its Rubbish”, then you fit the job to the phrase, in this case it would be a Bin Man. “It’s a bit up and down”, the comic reveal would be that you’re a Lift Attendant. Try it.

I’m a Baker. How’s It Going? I’m just in it for the dough.

I’m a Funeral Director. How’s It Going? Oh, it’s pretty dead in there.

I’m a Yoga Instructor. How’s It Going? It’s put me in a difficult position.

I’m a Viagra Salesman. How’s It Going? Well, there’s some stiff competition.

Life can sometimes feel like a joke, random, confusing, maybe even pointless. But like an audience hearing a joke for the first time we experience our life going forwards. I take comfort in the fact that all great jokes are written backwards and believe me, your life is well crafted by a masterful author. So whatever you’re going through right now, perhaps you are in the set-up stage. The surprise, the resolution, the delicious relief of shared laughter comes at the punchline!

Tony Vino (pictured above) is a pro comedian who has been performing internationally for over 20 years. From comedy clubs, cruises, churches to festivals he is renowned for mixing well thought out observational humour with audience interaction and quick witted responses.

It’s always a delight to gather up the work of talented writers and prepare it for sending to your inbox. This month’s offering represents an interesting menu of thoughts, reflections, comments and opinions. These men have experienced the triumphs and defeats of life. They’re here because they have some wisdom and insights which they want to share with you, the reader. Wherever you are reading this edition of Sorted Digital, I pray it blesses you and helps you in some small way. Until next time.

God bless,

Val Fraser, Editor

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Where to now?

By Jeff Lucas

Guidance. It’s a word that struck sheer terror, like a dagger to my heart, in my early years as a Christian. Things were going quite swimmingly well until the day when someone mentioned something strange called the will of God. Having worked out that this was not a document that listed heavenly bequests from God to his relatives, I set out on a painful trek to find this will of God for my life. Believers wiser than I advised me that I would need to seek guidance. Apparently two navigational systems were on offer. The perfect will of God was the “spot on, one hundred and eighty, bang on target” version available to the really keen. And there was something shady called the permissive will of God which the careless, slightly iffy apprentices of Jesus could walk in. I snorted with disdain: nothing less than the perfect version for me, I insisted. I wanted to be within the perfect will of God to the nearest yard, make that an inch. I headed immediately for the local Christian bookshop in search of assistance in these weighty matters.

Unfortunately there were lots of books about guidance on offer, which presented an immediate, paralysing dilemma. Which book about the will of God was it the will of God for me to buy? I wandered around the shop, and abstained from eating food for at least five minutes as I did, thinking that this miniature fast would bring revelation to my soul; alas, I couldn’t decide. Several book covers looked promising, but which was the right one?

I had heard that one should lay a fleece whenever one is presented with a number of alternatives. Having worked out that I was not required to give birth to a sheep, I asked the Lord to cause the quiet, balding gentlemen who was the manager of the bookstore to drop kick me if I was selecting the wrong book. The said gentleman did not stir; I concluded that I was indeed on the right trail. He even flared his hairy nostrils as he rang up the till and wrapped my book: a sign, perhaps?

And so began a period of foggy confusion, as I sincerely wrestled with the issue of guidance. Some well meaning folks (who may have had previous employment counselling a bloke called Job) did their best to point me in the right direction. One of them said that God would speak to me if I just threw my bible open at random. I had just started going out with Kay, who is now my wife, and was eager to know if she was a part of the perfect plan. Carefully removing all book marks, receipts and empty crisp wrappers from my Bible, I flipped it open, and stuck my finger at random on a verse. It was from Proverbs and warned me about consorting with prostitutes. I was horrified. Was there something that Kay wasn’t telling me?

I’m not the first to trip over the bible lucky dip routine. It’s an old chestnut, but worth telling in case you haven’t heard it.

Man, desperate for guidance, throws open bible and plonks finger on verse. It says, “And Judas went and hanged himself”. Discouraged, he closed the bible and decided to try Bible lucky dip again. The verse he randomly opened to didn’t help. It said “Go thou and do likewise”. Feeling ever more desperate, he decided to give “the divine dip” a final try. Throwing the bible open one last time, he dramatically closed his eyes and stabbed his finger at the page. The verse said “What you do, do quickly”.

Then I tried the practice of using every day happenings, like the changing of traffic lights, for example, as “if this happens then that means this” indicators. Looking back, again it seems like I must have been worthy for professional psychiatric care, but you’d be amazed how many people respond when, in public meetings, I ask how many have tried the “traffic light guidance” routine. Nervous that the Lord might be calling me away from my apparently wanton girlfriend to a life of celibacy as a missionary to Africa, I offered myself to Him while driving one day, and asked that, if he wanted me to don a pith helmet, that the next light would be green, for “go”. Thankfully the light turned red and I was spared a sweaty call to the Sahara. (Ok. I confess. It was green, but I slowed down until it turned red). Yep, it was nuts.

Then I heard that you could tell if you were on the right track because you would feel peace. Apparently this sense of peace would be like the umpire in a cricket match. A sense of unrest and emotional turbulence might indicate that the umpire was telling you that you were out for a duck, of the will of God, that is. This created some serious problems for me. Of course I didn’t have peace; mainly because I was terrified of making a mistake. It’s like asking a trapeze artist if he feels peaceful, even as he senses that his foot is about to slide off the trapeze bar. “So, as you face the possibility of falling headlong into oblivion below and meeting a rather crunchy end there, do you feel calm?” I was locked in a circle of paralysis: I didn’t have peace because I didn’t have peace because I didn’t have . . .

Then one day I decided to take a little look at that bible verse about peace and the umpire, and found that it is talking about the need for harmonious relationships in the local church, and has nothing to do with guidance whatsoever. I felt somewhat angry about all of the unnecessary agonizing that I had gone through as a result of bad, out of context teaching. It just wasn’t cricket.

But things were to get worse. Some bright spark suggested that finding the will of God was very easy – it was just the exact opposite of what I might want to do. Its sounds crazy now, but it sounded perfectly reasonable back then. But it created emotional havoc. For example, what was I to do about Kay? I was obviously going out with her because I liked her and thought her attractive. So that must be a no-no. I must surely find someone that I find numbingly boring and totally unattractive. Yes, that’s it, I shall marry someone seriously ugly for your Name’s sake, oh Lord! Hallelujah! That’ll crucify the flesh all right! (Some of you who have seen my photo are already concluding that she also got a hold of this mad idea). There are quite a few brands of this fairly twisted teaching in evidence; I’ve heard more than a few preachers harass congregations with the “God’s dreaming up something nasty for you” approach to guidance. “Don’t ever say that you don’t want to do something! God has a way of making you doing that very thing! I heard of a chap who hated curry with all of his heart, and wept at the possibility of ever having to go to a hot climate. But . . . (pause for effect and build atmosphere to maximum glee for the poor sweating unfortunate who is now spending his life doing what he hates doing in a place that he despises and where he hasn’t had a square meal in years) guess what he’s doing now for the Lord? Yes! He’s a missionary in Calcutta!”.

Of course there are times when God will ask us to do something that we’re not that keen on; martyrdom, for example; but the notion that he is waiting to basically pour scorn on anything that I might like is at best somewhat perverse. Imagine me taking a similar attitude to Christmas present buying.

“Aha! Despite the fact that I know that my son would love a surfboard for a Yuletide gift, I shall hereby test his affection for me by purchasing some heated hair curlers. Yes!”

I also struggled with the idea that, as one writer says, “God’s will affects everything”. Even if that is true, which I doubt, then I took that to mean that there were to be instructions about every detail of life. Should I wear a green sweater, or my favourite blue one, and shop at Tesco’s or Sainsbury’s? And if I played Cluedo at Christmas, was it already predetermined that Colonel Mustard did the murder in the study with the lead piping? Did God already know the result of a harmless game of table tennis, and more importantly, had he already decided who the winner should be?

I got into deeper philosophical hot water. I read one erudite chap who declared, “Would you like to know God’s sovereign will for the past? Well, if something happened, it was part of the plan.” Help! That means that two crazed schoolboys waving guns at Columbine High School, and summarily executing students and teachers before dispatching themselves was part of the plan. It means that the screams and sobs of Sarah Payne, snatched and murdered by one of the most cold hearted people in history, was part of the plan. And it means that the obscene photographs that captured the agony of those jumping out of the Twin Towers in New York to escape the furnace within was part of the plan. I do not and will not believe that. I got myself into a right straightjacket about the whole business. And then one day it dawned on me: it was not the will of God that I be obsessed with the will of God.

God isn’t just in the life-planning and direction business, moving his children around like pawns on a chessboard. And spirituality isn’t about a kind of Mystic Megism that seeks to continually download driving instructions from the beyond. Guidance, when it does come, flows out of friendship and relationship. God will just not be reduced to being an impersonal oracle: He will be, and ever is, Father.

And there are times when He seems to give us the chance to decide. There came a day when I got quite a shock. I genuinely asked for God’s directive about a situation, and his clear reply stunned me: “I don’t mind. What do you want to do?”. This certainly flew in the face of my belief that anything that I wanted was automatically not what God wanted. I’m not suggesting a “just do what you want” approach across the board, but on that occasion, God stunned me by giving me a choice.

Twenty five years later, I have something simple to say about guidance. Stop looking for the will of God. Read that again, because I meant what I said. Start looking for God. Enjoy Him, love Him, share your life with Him, and let Him know that you want what He wants.

Then guidance, when it is needed, will flow naturally, and you won’t get into the charismatic neurosis that dogged my early years. You won’t be always hunting for revelation, but true wisdom will find its place in your life.

And if anyone is looking for a pith helmet, I have one for sale. I’ve just seen another red traffic light.

Jeff Lucas (pictured above) is an international author, speaker and broadcaster. He is the bestselling author of 34 books, broadcasts a weekly radio show with Premier Radio and is a monthly contributor for the UK magazine Christianity. Jeff writes daily bible reading notes Life with Lucas in printed and digital format. Connect with Jeff here: jefflucas.org, also Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Jefflucasuk

Bentley Bentayga Speed: Power, Poise, and a Playful Edge

By Tim Barnes-Clay

The Bentley Bentayga Speed has never struggled for attention, writes motoring journalist Tim Barnes-Clay.

At the heart of the Bentayga Speed sits a twin-turbocharged 4.0-litre V8 producing 650PS and 850Nm of torque. On paper, it’s a formidable set of figures, enough to propel this substantial SUV from 0-60mph in 3.4 seconds and on to a top speed of 193mph.

Inside, the Bentayga Speed doesn’t disappoint in terms of its attention to detail. Its cabin is beautifully designed with premium materials, like wood, and Precision Diamond quilting - exuding a robustness and classiness difficult to replicate.

In Comfort mode, the Bentayga Speed behaves exactly as you would expect from a Bentley - quiet, gracious, and supremely capable of covering long distances with minimal effort.

Switch into Bentley mode, and the balance between comfort and performance is well judged. It was the setting for me - and it’s likely to be the default setting for other drivers, offering a mixture of responsiveness and refinement that suits a wide range of conditions.

However, it’s Sport mode where the real transformation takes place. Select it, and the Bentayga Speed feels noticeably more alert. Body control improves, the car feels more planted, and there’s a greater sense of connection between you and the luxury machine.

All-wheel steering is one of the most important qualities of the latest Bentayga Speed. The system encourages the vehicle to be more manoeuvrable at slower speeds, making it far more responsive than expected for such a large car. When driving through tight corners, particularly on a rural road, you notice how well it reacts to steering inputs.

The real revelation, though, lies in the Bentayga Speed’s willingness to engage. With the optional carbon ceramic brakes fitted, Sport mode unlocks ESC Dynamic - a setting that relaxes the electronic safety systems and allows a degree of slip.

Acceleration is, unsurprisingly, very strong. Engage launch control, and the zero to 60mph sprint feels every bit as brisk as the figures mentioned earlier in this piece suggest. The V8 lump delivers its might smoothly and linearly, making it easy to access performance without feeling overwhelmed.

Fast Facts: Bentley Bentayga Speed

• Max speed: 193mph

• 0-60 mph: 3.4 secs

• MPG: 21.6

• Powerplant: 3,996cc, twin-turbocharged V8

• Power (PS): 650

• CO2: 298 g/km

• Price: £219,000 as tested

Tim Barnes-Clay (pictured above) is a freelance journalist with more than three decades worth of industry experience under his belt. He test-drives the latest cars and attends new vehicle press launches around the world. The dad-of-three has a postgraduate diploma in broadcast journalism and has been a presenter and producer at ITV. He has also worked as a radio reporter and continues to present videos and record voiceovers.

Death Valley first series: One hand washes the other

By Val Fraser

Set in Wales, the comedy drama Death Valley follows the unlikely crime-solving partnership between eccentric national treasure John Chapel (Timothy Spall), a retired actor and star of hit fictional detective TV show Caesar, and disarming Welsh detective sergeant Janie Mallowan (Gwyneth Keyworth).

The talented performers in Death Valley Season One cleverly capitalised on portraying the flawed, imperfect nature of humanity, often to great comic effect. There was discomfort, social awkwardness and down right weirdness. The dialogue frequently stuttered and stumbled yet struck an interesting balance. It oscillated between the mis-speaking, mis-mentioning, misunderstanding and unpolished back tracking which can occur in the common conversations of every day life.

Yet these clumsy babblings and interactions were interspersed by some timely, smoother, more thought through monologues; y’know, those brief moments of oratory brilliance many mortals can only dream of.

Rumbling beneath the quirky dialogue was a complex dynamic driving the two mis-matched oddballs. Not a love-hate dynamic, certainly not a romantic dynamic, and not really a power struggle. It reads more like a strange dysfunctional, highly amusing, I’m-your-friend / I’m-not-your-friend playground dynamic. There’s not an ounce of malice but a harmless friction bubbled to the surface frequently, either pulling them together, or pushing them apart. They bring out the worst and the best of each other.

As the first series unfolded they discovered, whether they liked it or not, that one hand does indeed wash the other. Death Valley proved to be a very effective, if temporary, distraction from the seriousness of life! I found it funny, silly and slightly bonkers.

Made by BBC Studios Comedy Death Valley airs on BBC iPlayer.

Code of Silence: The wrong things, for the right reasons

By Val Fraser

Code of Silence is a six part, ground breaking thriller which introduces us to deaf catering worker, Alison Woods. She’s struggling to make ends meet, juggling two jobs, in a police canteen and a local bar, while also doing her best to support her deaf mum, Julie. When DC Ashleigh Francis calls on Alison to lip read the conversations of some dangerous criminals, she is plunged into a new and exhilarating world. The series has been described as “a landmark moment for inclusion and representation”.

I was instantly drawn into the curious, muffled, alien world which Code of Silence strives to represent. Observing the daily challenges of the deaf young woman portrayed on screen was a difficult watch. I was shaken by her poor decision making skills, cringed at her catastrophic errors of judgement and gasped when she ignored the professional advice and instructions of her superiors.

She exasperated me! I dropped my head in my hands! I shouted “NO” at the TV! I rolled my eyes! I looked away! I tutted! And yet, in my heart of hearts, I was rooting for Alison Woods from the very first moment she appeared on screen right through until the final credits rolled. In spite of everything, not once did I ever give up on her. Perhaps that’s because, although she frequently did the wrong things, it was for the right reasons. Her intentions, her motives, seemed good. It was a sharp reminder of my silly, headstrong younger self and the Heavenly Father who never gave up on me.

It’s gripping stuff from start to finish. Series One is currently available to stream on ITVX and STV Player, and will premiere on BritBox North America on July 24. A second series is in the pipeline.

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

Small Steps for Big Changes

By Patrick Reagan

In the introduction to his new book Small Steps for Big Changes, written with Liza Hoeksma, Patrick writes:

Research suggests that one in eight of us around the world are living with poor mental health, with depression and anxiety the two most common symptoms. That figure rises to one in four in the UK and that’s only the official figures. The reality is that many people don’t feel comfortable talking about their mental health for a variety of reasons. There’s also a stark reality that our healthcare system is overwhelmed and there are long waiting lists for people to have access to diagnosis and treatment (particularly in lower socio-economic communities) so it’s likely to be far more than one in four people who currently have poor mental health in this country.

We become trapped in cycles and habits that pull us down, often meaning we don’t have time to stop and think. We’re all busy; that’s the norm in our society. You can feel like you’re failing, even if you’re not. But it’s the busyness of life that keeps us trapped. We tell ourselves: “I’ll think about that when I’ve got some time” but we never make that time a priority and the weeks drift into months, years, decades. This overwhelm and lack of space leads us to continue to think in the same ways that have kept us trapped all our lives.

We need a radical rethink. What if we could look at this differently? What if our aim wasn’t just how to survive in this world, but was about how to truly enjoy it? What if we aimed for lives that we could look back on and say we invested our time and energy in things that mattered? What if we were able to live life in all its fullness? As Desmond Tutu famously said: “There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river. We need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in.” My hope is that this book will offer you the chance to take a step back, get upstream, and see what’s going on there.

Patrick Regan (pictured above) is an award-winning author, activist and speaker with extensive experience in the UK charity and public sectors. After he and his family went through a series of personal trials and ill health, Patrick decided to step down from his previous role as CEO at XLP to create Kintsugi Hope, a charity which aims to create safe and supportive spaces for those suffering from emotional and mental health challenges. He recently started a business called Brighter Days Life and is an honorary fellow of the London South Bank University for his contribution to justice and wellbeing. He recently took part in the Overwhelm Tour - With Patrick Regan and is involved with The Big Community Read | Shared Reading Programme - The Big Community Read.

We Could Be Heroes

By Dave Hopwood

There is an ancient hero from the past, a mighty warrior, who built cities and an empire. He’s not a Marvel or DC hero, or a Greek God. He was called Nimrod and his name became synonymous with mighty hunters. People spoke of him as an aspirational figure. And yet, the empire he founded became cruel and heartless, taking land from other nations and harming others to further its ambitions. That’s a problem with power, it can corrupt.

Christopher Nolan is currently finishing his latest movie The Odyssey and I’m guessing it will be a blockbuster. It’s based on the story of another ancient hero, Odysseus, returning from the Trojan war, battling gods and monsters along the way. It has a star-studded cast and no doubt will feature much running and gasping and stabbing and close-shaves.

One of my heroes is Eric Liddel the Scottish runner who defied the odds and won the 400m at the 1924 Paris Olympics, setting a world record in the process. He didn’t battle gods and monsters or found an empire. But he did show the kind of courage and steel which has lasted and still inspires folk today. In the movie about him, Chariots of Fire, he said: “God made me fast and when I run I feel his pleasure.” I don’t know if he really said that, but I think he lived it. And it’s a line that inspires us to consider many ways we can honour God.

I’m a writer and there are times when I get a sense that when I write I’m doing what I was made to do. I once met a surfer who said that he felt closest to God when surfing. Anything positive and life-affirming can bring honour to God. At the end of the movie, when Eric Liddel is about to run in the 400m final, an American runner passes him a sheet of paper, on it is a quote from 1 Samuel 2:30 “He who honours me I will honour.” An affirmation of Eric’s dedication.

When he was later interned in an enemy camp during World War Two he put up shelves for a sex worker in the camp. Afterwards she said it was the first time a man had done something for her without asking for anything in return. That’s what a hero can do. Live with a generous outlook. And much as I like watching swashbuckling adventures, we don’t need a sword and a spear for that.

Dave Hopwood (pictured above) loves communicating the Bible using contemporary media, humour and stories. He is author of a series of books retelling the Bible including The Shed, The Bloke’s Bible, and Raging Grace. He passionately believes that the Bible was and is aimed at ordinary people, and that it is earthy, funny and incisive in the way it tells of God’s interaction with the world. These days he spends much of his time retelling the Bible using anything that seems useful, TV, movies, internet, adverts, news stories etc. He speaks at various places and regularly publishes ideas and material via his website: www.davehopwood.com

Welcome to all our new readers

By Val Fraser

It’s been a busy month at Sorted Digital, and for reasons I can’t fully explain, there’s been a flurry of new readers signing up! Hello!

Thank you to all our existing readers who have taken the time to share Sorted Digital with their friends and family. This is what I always hoped would happen and it’s really lovely to see Sorted Digital growing and reaching more people.

And a special shout out to someone who has been working faithfully behind the scenes at Sorted for many, many years - my good friend Bob Crowther. Thank you!

Until next time, God bless,

Val Fraser, Editor

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By Tony Horsfall

In the following excerpt from his latest book Footsteps of Faith popular speaker and mentor Tony Horsfall distils the wisdom of over 50 years of discipleship and ministry.

Tony writes: There is a clear consensus nowadays that character formation is essential to the development of any effective ministry. Our character is the foundation stone on which the rest of our story and service will rest, and we must pay careful attention to the kind of person we are becoming. Too many gifted leaders have made a shipwreck of their faith, and damaged their followers in the process, simply because they did not pay adequate attention to their character. When the pressure was on, the unseen fault lines were tragically exposed.

God is always at work in us, shaping and forming us, and often using the circumstances of life to smooth off our rough edges and make us pliable in his hands. Through trials and difficulties, he tests our integrity (will we refuse to compromise?), our obedience (will we do as he says?), our faith (will we trust him?), and our fidelity (will we remain steadfast?). He wants us to become instruments for special purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work 2 Timothy 2:21.

This is a life-long process, and I was very conscious that this process was already underway within me during my time at Bible college. It was not simply a question of obtaining academic qualifications but of getting to know God more deeply. And in the melting pot of college life (there were over 200 students, male and female, with a wide variety of church backgrounds, theological persuasions, and nationalities), there was plenty of opportunity to be smoothed by the sandpaper of human interactions.

We may be tempted to feel that because character formation is God’s work, we can be passive, simply allowing him to work in us but playing no part in the process ourselves. This is not the case. We are told clearly to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling because God is at work in us (Philippians 2:12–13). We are to be actively seeking to develop a sound character, albeit with God’s help. Rather than be passive, we are called to grow in self-awareness, learning to reflect on our behaviours and impact on others, as well as in self-understanding, seeking to know ourselves and what makes us tick more fully. This refers to our strengths, as well as our weaknesses.

Psychologist David Benner writes: Deep knowing of God and deep knowing of self always develop interactively. The result is the authentic transformation of the self that is the core of Christian spirituality. This is referred to as dual knowledge – as we know God we get to know ourselves; as we know ourselves, we come to understand God as well. It is a way by which we can help with our own character development.

Self-awareness relates mostly to our relationships. How do other people experience us, and is this helpful or not? It is possible to have blind spots and not realise that, for example, we speak too much, dominate conversations, and never listen to others. Likewise, we may have a habit of tuning out of conversations, so we appear uninterested or aloof. We may not know, for instance, that our habit of being late and disorganised irritates others, and that we are perceived as being unreliable. Unless such behaviours are pointed out to us, they may well be reinforced over time, making change more difficult and developing into a character flaw which may undermine the work we do and our effectiveness.

Self-understanding relates chiefly to our reactions, responses, and why we do the things we do. How do we respond to other people? For example, are we judgemental, critically assessing others and forming opinions about them without even realising? Do we habitually compare ourselves to others unfavourably, feeling intimidated by their success and jealous of their popularity? How do we react to criticism, being treated unfairly, or being under authority? Have we learned to recognise the signals that we are overtired, have taken on too much, and need a break? If we understand ourselves, we can better manage ourselves through stressful times and with difficult people without behaving badly.

These two forms of self-knowledge (self-awareness and self-understanding) are vital factors in our journey to maturity. I was in my early 20s and still quite young, but already learning to think reflectively. The ability to examine our ways increases as we get older, of course, and plays an important part in our development.

How then can we grow in self-knowledge? Whenever we read scripture, we can learn more about human nature, and therefore about ourselves. As well as the moral exhortations we are given, the stories of men and women in the Bible are laid bare before us so that we can learn from their examples, both good and bad. We see our own lives reflected in theirs, and if we read wisely, we will take note of their mistakes and avoid walking in a similar way. In this way we allow the Bible to become a mirror to our souls and are constantly being challenged by its light. Paul says that the failures of the people of Israel in the Old Testament now serve as a reminder to us of the danger of complacency. He writes: These things happened to them as examples and were written down as warnings for us 1 Corinthians 10:11. If I am reading well then the stories of Abraham, Moses, David, and others will become integrated into my own thinking, reinforcing good principles and guiding me past unhelpful ones.

Self-reflection is another way by which we grow in self-awareness, especially when we do this with the help of the Holy Spirit. Each day it is worth taking time to think back over our day and ask the questions: “Where was God in my day? Where did I do the right thing, and when did I do what was wrong?” As we listen to the voice of the Spirit, we can then receive any necessary forgiveness, take note of any learning points for the future, and celebrate progress being made. As part of becoming more reflective we can learn to listen to the voice of conscience, which although not a perfect guide, is often the voice of God to us. Keeping a clear and tender conscience will help us in our self-awareness. It is when our conscience has been dulled that we are likely to be clumsy and insensitive to our own wrongdoing or carelessness.

Friends and trusted advisors can help us enormously in knowing ourselves better, and if we are married, so can our spouse. Not only can they affirm what is good in us, they can also challenge lovingly that which may be amiss, and that which we do not realise about ourselves. If we have the humility and courage to open ourselves up to others, seeking their help and counsel, welcoming feedback and correction, our journey to maturity will be accelerated and we may well avoid many painful lessons.

Remember how Jethro said to his son-in-law Moses: What you are doing is not good Exodus 18:17. Moses was trying to care for the people by himself and didn’t realise he needed to share the responsibility, but Jethro faithfully pointed out his mistake. It was a humbling, but vital moment for Moses as he gained a new insight about his tendency to micro-manage. No wonder Proverbs says: Faithful are the wounds of a friend 27: KJV.

I have personally been greatly helped by using psychometric tests and other tools that can give us insight into our personality and gifting, how we respond to conflict, what we are like under stress, and so on. None of these instruments are perfect, and none give a complete picture of who we are, but they can reveal things about us that we may not see otherwise. Often, they clarify what we already know but find hard to describe. They provide a framework for us to express ourselves and to learn about others.

I will speak later about the significant place that the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI®) played in my life, but here it will be sufficient to say that understanding my preference for introversion (being energised mostly from within) rather than extroversion (being energised mostly from without) has been a liberating and life-giving insight. I would not have known this about myself had it not been for the MBTI® (mistakenly thinking I had to be an extrovert) and may well have ended in burnout if I had not come to appreciate how much I need to have time and space alone to re-energise.

Finally, one practice to mention is that of journaling, taking the time to write down our thoughts and feelings, knowing we can be in the presence of God when doing this. This is a proven way to unpack difficult emotions and work our way through tricky situations. In a confidential notebook we can explore our most hidden thoughts and feelings, knowing that no other person will read them, and that before God they are welcomed and accepted – he knows them anyway! This kind of writing is cathartic and releases pressure, but it also helps us to clarify our thinking and take charge of any troublesome emotions. For many years I did this only occasionally, when the heat was really on, but always profitably. Re-reading my journals always helped me gain a clearer insight about myself. I can track my progress, or lack of it, and see how my thinking has changed and matured. Journaling helps me to understand and accept myself better.

Progress in the Christian life does not just happen. We apply ourselves to the call of developing our character, and part of that is to grow in self-awareness and self-understanding. Paul encourages his young protégé Timothy to be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress. Watch your life and doctrine closely 1 Timothy 4:15–16. There are no shortcuts to maturity, and we are never too young to start paying attention to who we are, and who we are becoming.

Tony Horsfall (pictured above right) is an established author and well known as a retreat leader in the UK and internationally. With a background in mission, he regularly speaks at events and conferences. He has written a number of other books for BRF Ministries, including Deep Calls to Deep, Knowing You, Jesus, Resilience in Life and Faith, and Rhythms of Grace. His latest book Footsteps of Faith is available from BRF.

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Night of Nature will bring the species and habitats RSPB are working to protect onto the big screen, accompanied by a programme of live music performed by G4 and the Blackheath Quartet. Teams from RSPB nature reserve will share the vital part they play in conservation work across sites including Bempton Cliffs, Leighton Moss and Aire Valley.

RSPB CEO Beccy Speight said: “Following the overwhelming success of Night of Nature 2025, and the incredible feedback we received from our guests, we are delighted to bring this special event back for 2026. This year, we’re taking Night of Nature north from London to Harrogate, sharing the magic of this unforgettable evening with even more of our supporters.”

Tickets now on sale from £35 via https://www.rspb.org.uk/whats-happening/night-of-nature

Main Photo Credit: Courtesy of RSPB

Looks-wise, the headlights are slim and integrated into a black unit that spans the front end. Below, there is a chiselled design with air intakes and a trapezoidal lower grille. The sides feature heavily sculpted door bottoms that highlight the robust cladding, emphasising its rugged SUV design. At the rear, the roofline slopes downward, and a light bar extends midway, while thick cladding surrounds the bumpers for added durability.

Toyota’s Urban Cruiser offers three trim levels. The entry-level Icon features 18-inch alloys, a 10.1-inch infotainment touchscreen with Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, a digital radio, a 10.3-inch driver’s display, a rear-view camera, LED headlights, keyless entry/start, and extensive safety features.

The mid-range Design trim includes heated seats, a heated steering wheel, and a front wiper de-icer.

At the top, the Excel trim boasts 19-inch alloys, a wireless phone charger, a panoramic roof, a JBL premium audio system, adaptive LED headlights, and electric front seat adjustment.

There is good headroom and legroom in the front, though the sloping roofline slightly reduces rear headroom.

Boot space is less impressive at 310 litres, which is only marginally larger than a Vauxhall Corsa. When the rear seats are slid back, storage space drops to 238 litres. However, folding the rear seats creates a more useful 562 litres of room.

Two battery sizes are available: 49kWh for the entry-level with a range of 213 miles, and 61kWh for mid and top trims, with a claimed range of 264 miles.

The 144PS entry-level Icon comes only with the lower-powered battery, while the 174PS mid-range and top trims feature the higher-powered one. All are front-wheel drive, but if all-wheel drive is essential, consider the Suzuki eVitara, which shares the same platform.

I tested the mid-range 174PS Design trim, which accelerates to 62 mph in 8.7 seconds. While it has adequate ‘go’ for city driving and merging onto motorways, it’s not designed for high performance. Those who are less concerned about that aspect may prefer the more affordable, lower-powered version, which only adds 0.9 seconds to the acceleration time.

The Toyota has a soft suspension that absorbs potholes; however, it can feel jittery on rough surfaces and somewhat unstable at high speeds.

Nonetheless, finding a comfortable driving position in the new Toyota Urban Cruiser is simple. Certainly, you’re perched above the road enough to get a good view out of the windscreen, and, although I’ve seen cars with thinner front window pillars, they’re not so thick as to obstruct your view.

The rear pillars are much thicker, so your over-the-shoulder view is compromised – but a rear-view camera is included on the entry-level model and the mid-level Design trim. Go for the top-of-the-range Excel, however, and a 360-degree surround-view camera will make your life even easier. Front and rear parking sensors are also factory-fitted across the lineup.

Overall, this new Toyota is comfortable, well-suited for city driving, and provides enough performance and range for a typical week of urban commuting without any anxiety.

I recommend the Design specification, as it strikes a good balance between features and value.

Fast Facts: Toyota Urban Cruiser 61kWh Design

• Max speed: 93 mph

• 0-62 mph: 8.7 secs

• Electric Range: Up to 264 miles

• Powerplant: Dual electric motors & 61kWh battery pack

• Power (PS): 174

• CO2: 0 g/km

• Price: £29,995 to £35,745 (£33,495 as tested)

Photo Credit: All photos courtesy of Toyota

Inspired by the blind man’s plea to Jesus, the song gives voice to those waiting in longing yet still trusting in God’s mercy. It holds the tension of faith when wanting for healing while embracing redemptive suffering, confident that God is present in the waiting.

This release continues in KXC Worship’s legacy of simple worship songs, honest, community-rooted songs that meet God in both pain and persistence.

Welcome to the Manosphere, where men are born with no value

By Kezia Martin

Theroux’s documentary breaks the façade of the life millions of men are being sold

LISTEN TO THIS ARTICLE

Acclaimed documentarian Louis Theroux’s latest film Inside the Manosphere grants access to some of the internet’s most followed, most extreme male influencers. These buff men flaunt their beach houses and sports cars, telling millions of lads how to access a dream world where they’ll get ripped and rich. Oh, and enjoy one-way monogamy, a loyal wife plus loads of other women. Revolutionary stuff.

Viewers are introduced to the influencers’ more moderate videos, but are then led to increasingly misogynistic, racist, and antisemitic content. Many of their followers, some dealing with homelessness or major trauma, lose out in their get-rich-quick schemes.

Of course, these influencers are a minority, but they have real-world impact. Nearly three-quarters of Gen Z experience misogyny online and half now feel social media isn’t safe. The charity Shelter says the ‘manosphere’ is fuelling real-life domestic abuse. One particularly bizarre moment in the film has stuck with me. Two young, male fans run up to influencer Justin Waller, a business partner of Andrew Tate:

Fan: “My biggest takeaway from your content is that life as a man . . . you are born with no value. You have to build that value.”

Justin Waller: “See, women are born with their value. It’s their beauty, their youth. A 20-something woman can hop on luxury cars and yachts for free. Men cannot.”

Waller reduces women’s worth to their looks and men’s to their wealth. As this view of human value gains traction, the gospel is particularly radical, because it says men and women are created with equal and sacred value.

Paul, when writing to the Corinthians, was also speaking into a situation of division and othering, this time between Jews and Gentiles. He called the church to see itself as one body, full of diverse parts dependent on each other’s flourishing. He goes further: “those members of the body we think are less honourable we clothe with greater honour” (1 Corinthians 12:23).

Influencers like Waller are devaluing men and women. By contrast, Paul’s modus operandi for community is to ensure every single person is encouraged, valued, and working well, whether they’re ‘put-together’ or not, whether their skills are shiny or not. It’s a radical co-dependence on each other, rejoicing precisely because we’re different, making no distinction of value between the ‘great’ and the ‘lowly’.

How can you model that this week? Who can you build up that rarely hears praise? How can you help someone else see their inherent value, rather than fighting to build your own?

Editor’s Note: Many thanks to LICC and Kezia Martin, Digital Communications Executive, for granting Sorted Digital permission to publish this article. The super switched on team at LICC really have their ears to the ground regarding social shifts and trends. For more culturally relevant articles like the one above sign up here.

How The Other Bennet Sister surprised me with a biblical theme

By Val Fraser

As a fan of the BBC’s swoon-worthy 1995 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (the one that sparked Austen mania) Val Fraser’s preconceived notions about The Other Bennet Sister were quickly up-ended.

Val writes: When I began watching The Other Bennet Sister I thought I knew what to expect. I was familiar with the well worn story line: Beautiful boy meets beautiful girl, followed by a series of mishaps.

I thought I knew the familiar cast of characters. Who could forget (or indeed follow) Alison Steadman’s performance as the hysterical Mrs Bennet or David Bamber’s comical Mr Collins?

I thought I knew the familiar, tidy, ending; everything is resolved, the fairy tale couple wed in a fairy tale church and live happily ever after in a fairy tale house.

And to my great shame I spent the first episode subconsciously comparing the performances, costumes and set in The Other Bennet Sister to my beloved 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice. Like a fever dream I thrashed around trying to grasp at anything familiar, hoping to be grounded in my own preconceived version of the predictable story. Conflicted, I longed to find the familiar and yet, the not-so-familiar beckoned.

The Other Bennet Sister is based on the bestselling novel of the same name by Janice Hadlow. Mary is the seemingly unremarkable and overlooked middle sister in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. The Other Bennet Sister initially sets the scene and rattles through the back story; I very quickly got to know Mary Bennet as an exceptional character in her own right.

Mary suffered under the harsh social culture of 1796 when Jane Austen first penned Pride and Prejudice. Bespectacled Mary, among other things, was the victim of that cruel mindset, familiar to women of certain age: “Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses.” As in the biblical story of Leah, Mary is painfully overlooked and outshone by the beauty of her sister(s): “Leah had weak eyes, but Rachel was lovely in form, and beautiful.” Genesis 29:17 (NIV)

Ella Bruccoleri, who plays the leading role of Mary Bennet, said: “Mary Bennet has been written off by many members of her family, and as a result she’s written herself off too. When we meet her at the beginning of the series, she’s living with her family in a small village and has never really left that world. These are the only people she knows, and she understands herself through the values they impose on her. We know these characters from Pride and Prejudice, but it’s fascinating to see the impact they have on someone like Mary.”

The Other Bennet Sister surprised and delighted me with an unexpected exploration of the important themes expressed in 1 Peter 3:3-4 (NIV): “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewellery and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”

This drama may have been set in the Regency world but it thoughtfully tackles timeless, contemporary themes. I believe that Mary’s inner struggles are fundamental issues shared by women throughout the centuries. Mary’s challenges are as relevant for women today as they were when the books of Genesis, 1 Peter and the relatively recent, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice were written.

The Other Bennet Sister is available on BBC One - The Other Bennet Sister, Series 1 - Episode guide

Val Fraser is a trained journalist with over 14 years’ experience working on staff in various demanding media environments. She has authored/edited thousands of articles including news, travel and features. Val has authored/contributed to ten non-fiction books. She began writing for Sorted in 2020 as a columnist and feature writer. In 2022 Steve Legg appointed her as Digital Editor with editorial responsibility for the Sorted Magazine website. In January 2025, following an independent consultation, she was appointed as Steve Legg’s successor and became the Editor of Sorted Magazine (website) and Sorted Digital (online magazine).

From the archive | Steve’s stuff: Swearing doesn’t make you funny

By Steve Legg

Good comedy doesn’t have be crude but it does need to be well researched and hit the spot, as Tim Vine (pictured above) explained to Steve Legg.

Steve writes: Tim Vine has made the great British public chuckle for longer than he cares to remember. Tim, who is brother to the journalist, Jeremy Vine, and a resident of Banstead in Surrey, has plied his craft of witty one-liners for more than 25 years on TV, radio and stage. And during all that time, he didn’t resort to swearing to make his jokes more funny; far from it.

Tim Vine told Sorted: “I can’t say that I don’t swear in normal life. I will if I stub my toe, or something. Normally, when I’m late for things, actually, funnily enough, I just get frustrated.”

While alternative comedians continue to push back the barriers, in terms of the subjects they pick on and the colourful language they choose to use, Vine is a throwback to a bygone age, when jokes were intelligent and genuinely funny.

He is not alone. Comics like Milton Jones are made from the same stock. It’s a formula that allows their natural wit to tickle the funny bone. So what was Vine’s inspiration? Tim said: “I think it’s to do with the sort of comedy I liked when I was growing up,” he reminisces. “Wholesome comedy was just the sort of stuff that I would sit and watch.”

He learned well from the likes of Don Rickles, Norman Collier, Laurel and Hardy, Ken Dodd and Tommy Cooper. Tim added: “I used to think to myself that Don Rickles didn’t really do anything for me. Yet, I think his tribute to Clint Eastwood is absolutely hilarious. It’s just really, really funny.”

“There was also a guy called Foster Brooks. Now I really liked this guy, who used to do Dean Martin stuff, when he just pretended to be drunk. And then there was Norman Collier, with his microphone gag. I could watch them do that all night.”

The late Steve Legg (pictured above right) was the Founder and Editor of Sorted Magazine. He launched it in 2007. Steve travelled the length and breadth of the UK plus 30 countries overseas, covering a staggering 1.5 million miles on the road, using a crazy mix of comedy, trickery and mystery to communicate the Christian message to young and old. He performed at top venues globally including NIA Birmingham, Wembley Arena and London’s Royal Albert Hall. Radio and TV appearances were in the hundreds. His passion was creative communication of the Christian faith through performances, books, DVD’s and other resources. Steve was also a prolific author. He is greatly missed by all who knew him. His memory, his unique vision, his ministry to serve men and his legacy are honoured and kept alive through the Sorted website, Facebook community and Sorted Digital online magazine.

Toyota Urban Cruiser: “Comfortable, well-suited for city driving”

By Tim Barnes-Clay Insta @tbarnesclay

The ‘Urban Cruiser’ has been used as a badge on various Toyota models worldwide. However, in the UK, it’s mainly remembered as one of the original small SUV crossovers, though, to be honest, it hardly made a lasting impression.

Now, Toyota has chosen to bring back the Urban Cruiser in electric form, and the changes are strikingly evident. Looks-wise, the headlights are slim and integrated into a black unit that spans the front end. Below, there is a chiselled design with air intakes and a trapezoidal lower grille.

The sides feature heavily sculpted door bottoms that highlight the robust cladding, emphasising its rugged SUV design. At the rear, the roofline slopes downward, and a light bar extends midway, while thick cladding surrounds the bumpers for added durability.

Toyota’s Urban Cruiser offers three trim levels. The entry-level Icon features 18-inch alloys, a 10.1-inch infotainment touchscreen with Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, a digital radio, a 10.3-inch driver’s display, a rear-view camera, LED headlights, keyless entry/start, and extensive safety features.

The mid-range Design trim includes heated seats, a heated steering wheel, and a front wiper de-icer. At the top, the Excel trim boasts 19-inch alloys, a wireless phone charger, a panoramic roof, a JBL premium audio system, adaptive LED headlights, and electric front seat adjustment. There is good headroom and legroom in the front, though the sloping roofline slightly reduces rear headroom.

Boot space is less impressive at 310 litres, which is only marginally larger than a Vauxhall Corsa. When the rear seats are slid back, storage space drops to 238 litres. However, folding the rear seats creates a more useful 562 litres of room.

Two battery sizes are available: 49kWh for the entry-level with a range of 213 miles, and 61kWh for mid and top trims, with a claimed range of 264 miles.

The 144PS entry-level Icon comes only with the lower-powered battery, while the 174PS mid-range and top trims feature the higher-powered one. All are front-wheel drive, but if all-wheel drive is essential, consider the Suzuki eVitara, which shares the same platform.

I tested the mid-range 174PS Design trim, which accelerates to 62 mph in 8.7 seconds. While it has adequate ‘go’ for city driving and merging onto motorways, it’s not designed for high performance. Those who are less concerned about that aspect may prefer the more affordable, lower-powered version, which only adds 0.9 seconds to the acceleration time.

The Toyota has a soft suspension that absorbs potholes; however, it can feel jittery on rough surfaces and somewhat unstable at high speeds. Nonetheless, finding a comfortable driving position in the new Toyota Urban Cruiser is simple. Certainly, you’re perched above the road enough to get a good view out of the windscreen, and, although I’ve seen cars with thinner front window pillars, they’re not so thick as to obstruct your view.

The rear pillars are much thicker, so your over-the-shoulder view is compromised - but a rear-view camera is included on the entry-level model and the mid-level Design trim. Go for the top-of-the-range Excel, however, and a 360-degree surround-view camera will make your life even easier. Front and rear parking sensors are also factory-fitted across the line-up.

Overall, this new Toyota is comfortable, well-suited for city driving, and provides enough performance and range for a typical week of urban commuting without any anxiety. I recommend the Design specification, as it strikes a good balance between features and value.

Fast Facts: Toyota Urban Cruiser 61kWh Design

• Max speed: 93 mph

• 0-62 mph: 8.7 secs

• Electric Range: Up to 264 miles

• Powerplant: Dual electric motors & 61kWh battery pack

• Power (PS): 174

• CO2: 0 g/km

• Price: £29,995 to £35,745 (£33,495 as tested)

Tim Barnes-Clay (pictured above) is a freelance journalist with more than three decades worth of industry experience under his belt. He test-drives the latest cars and attends new vehicle press launches around the world. The dad-of-three has a postgraduate diploma in broadcast journalism and has been a presenter and producer at ITV. He has also worked as a radio reporter and continues to present videos and record voiceovers.

A driving lesson

By Jeff Lucas

Teaching your children to drive is not a good idea. Let me rephrase that. There should be a clear biblical command prohibiting such madness, sternly advising would-be parental driving instructors that they shall be hereby stoned to death if they attempt it. Maybe there is a verse about this buried in the ox’s gall bladders of Leviticus: “Rideth not in thine daughter’s chariot or sudden filthy great boils shall break out all over thine head” or something similar.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. I pictured a happy hour of parent/child bonding; we would amble with cautious speed through the leafy lanes, me gently encouraging, coaching, and occasionally correcting Kelly’s driving technique. I would speak in calm measured tones, and she would be delighted to receive such expert instruction from her ever-loving father. It would be such a joyous, relaxing time. What transpired was as relaxing as the battle of Armageddon. Tension climbed as we gently brushed bushes and shrubs on the roadside, and edged even higher when we narrowly missed a warm embrace with an articulated truck. It wasn’t Kelly’s fault, she was a new driver. But her braking was, shall we say, sudden. A couple of times I found myself kissing the windscreen, my nose corrugated up against the unyielding glass. My impatience rose to dangerous levels; I even screamed loudly in tongues in an octave so high that it sounded like a excerpt from the Vienna Boys Choir Glossalalia album.

But the fever pitch of agony came when we encountered a roundabout. Kelly was nervous (understandably) and so stalled the car a couple of times. A driver waiting behind got impatient and honked his horn two or three times. I was ready to kill him, eager to share a gesticulation not dissimilar to a “one way” sign; I was utterly incensed at his crass lack of understanding. And then it occurred to me; I was angry with him for doing exactly what I had been guilty of for the last twenty minutes. He was mildly irritated with someone he didn’t know; I was bursting a blood vessel over the driving of my daughter whom I dearly love. Why is it that we so often are the most intolerant with the sins of others that we ourselves are guilty of? It seems that a mad blindness seizes us, throwing into magnified, floodlit detail the small transgressions of those around us while we totally ignore, or are even oblivious to, the jumbo jet sized failings in us. We strain at the gnat, and swallow a three humped camel in the process.

Perhaps there is actually some mischief in our critical attitudes. We zero in on the specks of sins in others’ lives, hoping that in so doing we will cover our own far darker stains. Deeply unhappy with our own grubbiness, we distil our shame and turn it into venom, ready for a snake bite that can fracture and destroy fellowship and friendship in seconds. We become like the Pharisees, who got their stomachs into serious uproar because Jesus didn’t ceremonially wash his hands, and then popped off to plot his death.

Next time you’re tempted to get irate about the speck of sawdust lingering in your brother’s eye, check that you’re not carting around a plank in your own. And avoid the sulphuric snare of Satan: just buy your kids proper driving lessons.

Jeff Lucas (pictured above) is an international author, speaker and broadcaster. He is the bestselling author of 34 books, broadcasts a weekly radio show with Premier Radio and is a monthly contributor for the UK magazine Christianity. Jeff writes daily bible reading notes Life with Lucas in printed and digital format. Connect with Jeff here: jefflucas.org, also Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Jefflucasuk

What sort of tale have I fallen into?

By John Eldredge

In his book Epic John Eldredge reflects on The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkein

John writes: It’s been quite a journey for Frodo and Sam when the little gardener wonders this. Ever since they left home they’ve encountered more wonders and more dangers than they could possibly have imagined. The battle on Weathertop. The flight to the ford. The beauty of Rivendell. The dark mines of Moria, where they lost their beloved Gandalf. Their fellowship has fallen apart; their friends are now far away on another part of the journey. Into the shadow of Mordor they’ve come, two little hobbits and their cooking gear on a journey to save the world.

It’s at this point Sam said: “I wonder what sort of tale we’ve fallen into?” Sam could not have asked a better question. He assumes that there is a story; there is something larger going on. He also assumes that they have somehow tumbled into it, been swept up into it.

What sort of tale have I fallen into? Is a question that would help us all a great deal if we wondered it for ourselves. It might just be the most important question we ever ask.

This copyrighted extract from the book Epic by John Eldredge (pictured above) is used with his permission. John is an author, counsellor, teacher and the president of Wild at Heart, a ministry devoted to helping people discover the heart of God, recover their own hearts in God’s love and learn to live in God’s Kingdom.

Celebrating 20 years of Sorted

By Val Fraser

Almost twenty years ago, in 2007, our beloved Founder and Editor, the late Steve Legg, birthed a unique vision. By all accounts Steve was a brilliant, creative, counter-cultural, strategic thinker, ahead of his time by a country mile. In an era when mainstream print publications began taking a nose dive this bold man of God came up with the radical idea to produce a wholesome lifestyle magazine, something which would help ordinary men make sense of the Christian faith.

His unique ministry and mission to bless and serve men by publishing wholesome, encouraging, inspirational, positive content was nothing short of a labour of love. I know first hand that the logistics of publishing, producing and distributing a bi-monthly, paid-for, glossy magazine, on a shoe string, created an intense treadmill of ongoing financial and administrative pressures. In terms of quality Sorted had to sit comfortably on the shelves of W H Smith alongside the other mainstream glossies. Editorial pressures were endless. Steve also dealt with the distress of unscrupulous counterfeits and copycat versions of the concept he created, and as the new owner, so do I. None of us really understood just how many plates he was spinning. Yet somehow, he held it all together with good grace.

It’s worth noting that after 86 years of publication, even the long established and much loved print magazine, Reader’s Digest, ceased publication due to rising costs and digital shifts. When I took on the role of Digital Editor four years ago Sorted was already in serious decline. It took two years of hard graft before the website gained traction and began to outperform the print magazine. The final issue of Sorted had a print run of only 7,000 copies. Some of these were never sold. Writers often crave the glory and kudos of being “in print”, I get that. But in reality, the digital age is well and truly upon us and the new Sorted platforms have clocked up over 230,000 views.

Steve is greatly missed but I am committed to robustly upholding his vision to help ordinary men make sense of the Christian faith. It’s my aim to keep his memory, his unique vision, his ministry and his legacy alive over three platforms: The sortedmag.co.uk website, this online magazine Sorted Digital (published via Substack) and the popular Sorted Men’s Mag Facebook community.

Under Steve’s ownership Sorted was proactively inclusive of women. He empowered female leaders, editors and writers. He delighted in our 30% female readers. I was extremely fortunate to work closely with him during the final years of his life. We had a healthy professional relationship and he was very encouraging. For sure, I’m no Steve Legg, but the baton was clearly passed to me and when this ministry feels uphill I remember that he said I was: “the answer to his prayers”, “a safe pair of hands” and “the find of the century”. Thanks mate, that’s enough for me.

For your reading pleasure I have begun re-publishing some of Steve's Stuff along with archived and copyrighted material from the original print magazines.

And stand by as plans are being hatched to celebrate 20 years of Sorted!

Until next time, God bless,

Val Fraser, Editor

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The historic March for Jesus movement first began in London in 1987 and grew into a global movement which continues today. In recent years it has regathered momentum in many parts of Europe including Paris, Amsterdam, Dublin, Belfast and cities in Germany, Spain, Lithuania, Bulgaria and Albania.

Importantly, the event is not a protest, not a political march, and not a platform for self-promotion. No political or national flags will be permitted, and the focus will remain solely on lifting up the name of Jesus in a spirit of worship, peace and public witness.

Tom Cruise stars as Pete “Maverick” Mitchell in the iconic 1986 blockbuster that defined a generation. The all star cast includes Kelly McGillis, Val Kilmer, Anthony Edwards and Tom Skerritt.

Storyline: A class of elite, hot shot Navy pilots at the Fighter Weapons School known as Top Gun push their aircraft and each other to the limits as they compete to be the best of the best.

It’s paper free, ad-free, AI free and algorithm free. And you can sign up for free here: Sorted Digital | Val Fraser | Substack

Over one billion people watched Dudley Tal Stokes and his team crash out of the Olympic Games in 1988 in Calgary. A crash that happened at 80mph, resulting in the team’s helmets dragging along the wall of the run for over 2000ft. Many people remember the team walking alongside their sled with overwhelming applause from the onlookers and fellow teams competing.

For a person who had been a highflyer his whole life, the outcome was extremely devastating. Dudley, a graduate of the RMA Sandhurst and a Pilot in the elite Jamaica Defence Force Air Wing, was recognised as someone who had a winner’s mentality.

Dudley Tal Stokes comments: “Burnout is the term used to describe a lethargy felt by someone towards their mode of earning a living and is thought to be the result of internal and external pressures that cause them to lose motivation and interest in what they are doing. This is often recognised as the longterm condition of quiet quitting. But I was not a quitter …

“I could have easily quit after what happened at my first Winter Olympics, but instead I focused on my key three areas to get up and keep going; physicality, mentality, and ability. A Senior Military Officer for whom I worked with had recently passed over for promotion and explained to me ‘Dudley, you think you are looking at me, but that is not so. This is not me; this is just the kit’. In other words, the body may be present, but the meaningful presence is what is within.

“Everybody will fail, but you have to come back, learn from the previous failure, access the goal and try again another way, and that’s exactly what I went on to do.”

Ultimately, six years after the 1988 games, the Jamaican bobsleigh team became the tenth best team in the world. Hard work and an Olympian mindset paid off. Dudley has since personally competed in two more Olympic Games, and the Jamaican bobsleigh team were 14th sled overall in the Lillehammer Norway games in 1994, beating all the American sleds.

THE INTERVIEW:

Steve Legg (SL): Growing up did you have a sort of sense of destiny that you were on this planet to achieve something amazing?

Dudley ‘Tal’ Stokes (DTS):

I always dreamt of representing Jamaica. Now, Jamaica is a relatively small place, but the guy who grew up to the west of me went on to win a bronze medal in the 4 x 100 and the World Championships in 1983. And then the guy who was two miles to the east of me, was a guy named Jimmy Adams, who then played for the West Indies for many, many years, in the shadow of Brian Lara. But he actually scored as many centuries as Brian Lara did. Lara scored some huge ones.

In Jamaica you’re rubbing shoulders with athletic royalty all the time. The high school I went to, the coach of the high school was a guy called Herb McKinley, was Jamaica’s first Olympic medalist, and he won medals in the ’48 games at 200 and 400 and came back four years later and won a medal at the 100 meters. This outstanding athlete and he was a high school coach.

You have this sense that there is something for you to do in sport. And I think many, many Jamaican children grow with that. And it feeds the sort of athletic excellence that we produce because it starts very young and people start thinking and dreaming. They build that desire and they do the work and the competitive pressures through outstanding athletes. And I was in those pressures. I wasn’t getting anywhere. I thought I’d lost my chance and then the bobsleigh opportunity came along.

SL: I mean, who would’ve thought it? We fell in love with the movie, Cool Running, the Jamaican Bobsleigh Team. A concept so outrageous it could only be made if it was true.

DTS: Yeah. Well that is one of the things that you just couldn’t make up. There is no imagination that ever lived that would’ve sat down and said, “Yeah, this is how it’s going to be.” Is an incredible story that has unfolded.

SL: Oh man, we’re going to talk about it, but just going back to what you said, I love that mindset. Is it a typical Jamaican mindset that anything is possible?

DTS: Yeah, and I think it has become typical and that’s because examples of it abound and they’re not far from you. You go down to the plaza on a Saturday afternoon and you’re going to run into somebody who has achieved at the highest level. That just happens all the time in Jamaica. It’s not myth. You can see the guy right there, you see Usain Bolt standing over there and you say hi to him and he say hi back and wave. When you’re that close to that level, it is not hard for you to make the association and to start thinking and dreaming about taking such a step yourself.

And I think that’s endemic in Jamaican society and it throws up a lot of performers in the areas in where you have opportunities, in athletics and football, cricket, in those areas in entertainment. Those are the areas, because of the economic realities, these are where the opportunities lie and so the talent goes there.

By Neville Patterson

In this raw and deeply personal piece Neville Patterson pulls no punches as he reflects, and rants, about his recent journey with bereavement.

Nev writes: Sometimes all I need is a big hug. No words. Not even: “I just don’t know what to say, I have no words.” Actually no words at all is just fine! I am new to the grief and bereavement journey and have received a whole spectrum of words of “support”. Some have been OK, some not, some confusing.

Maybe it’s just me. Am I unable to differentiate between those who genuinely have my best interests at heart and those who are just inept at empathy? I am pleased to say that the majority of my friends and family have been lovely and I’ve sensed a strengthening from that as I navigate the pain of loss. Perhaps it’s too soon to share some of my personal insights into this early grief journey as I just don’t know which spin cycle my mind will be on next week, month or year.

Nevertheless, I feel I would still like to give it a go as it may help those who are also new to this painful stage of life or even assist some in being wiser in how they interact with the grieving soul. I’m working my way through a book given to me about living with bereavement so I’m conscious much wiser people than I have written about this subject. But I’ll try and simply comment on what I’ve found helpful and of benefit and what has not been! I’ll share four good things/approaches and four not so helpful things/approaches.

It doesn’t seem that long ago when I visited the cinema to watch Hamnet with my wife. Indeed, I previously penned a review of Hamnet for Sorted Digital. Now it seems to have been part of the preparation for me saying goodbye to my wife who passed away very recently. I held her hand during the very moving death scene in the film and I think we both knew what was to come.

While I knew the day would come when my Helen would die I did not anticipate it being quite so soon. I know she’s in a better place now, safe with Jesus. I heard that comment many times, which praise God is true, but in the trauma of it all, the concept of that just rattled around in my head, when all I wanted was to hold her again and tell her I loved her. So here’s my take on what I’ve found helpful and what I haven’t. I’ll start with the four unhelpful things first.

Four unhelpful things

It’ll all get better with time

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard this statement. It’s sometimes accompanied with a weird smile, a sympathetic nod and a pat on the shoulder. I confess that my initial instinct towards this comment is not good. I actually find it annoying and I just don’t believe it’s in any way helpful or even totally true. I really don’t find this positive in any way even if it may be partly true, which I am yet to discover. Is it the right time to tell me things will get better? I just want to journey the grief the best way I can without hearing patronising sound bites. There, I’ve said it, now breathe! Most of the people who have said this to me are on the outer fringes of my life.

Be gentle with yourself

I’m sure the intention is kind, but honestly what does this even mean? What do they think I’m doing? Walking barefoot up Snowdon? Then scraping myself all over with a rusty cheese grater followed by a hot vinegar bath? It sends me down a rabbit hole, dredging up anything that I could have done better, especially in the last few years, and I become paranoid that they must have got wind of it, and therefore are telling me to go easy/gentle on myself. It results in me wanting to almost hide away from people. My head is revving like a Formula One race car. There’s a ton of stuff to sort out. The last thing I want is delays.

I know how you feel

Often this statement is followed by their own grief experiences and tales of woe. I’m just not interested, yet they insist. In my mind I’m saying “take me now Lord!” Close family members are particularly adept at this annoying behaviour. They promptly take umbrage when you try and respectfully say you cannot possibly know how I feel as I’ve just lost the wife I’ve known and loved for most of my life! Perhaps this should be number one in the most annoying response list.

Empty promises

People have spoken to me with what appears to be genuine interest and offers of help and support. Many just don’t follow through with anything, rather they seem to think they have discharged their duty to me by saying: “Contact me if you need anything or if I can help.” That seems OK, but is it? Also I often hear: “Oh do let me know how I can help you, I’ll do anything, I’m worried about you, but things will get better.” And flash, they disappear never to be heard of again! They just abandon me to come up with suggestions at a time when I just haven’t got the head space and am often running on empty emotionally.

Four helpful things

A hug

This, for me, is best accompanied with no words. The best one I received was from a big brother who almost lifted me up as he firmly held me and we both sobbed our hearts out for a few minutes . . . once my ribs healed! That was the best therapy. I needed that and nothing else. No words were exchanged but I knew he cared and was standing with me.

So sorry for your loss. We are thinking of you. You are in our prayers

This is simple and helpful. I have no need for wordy, complicated phrases. An impartation of the stages of grief, and where I might be in that process, only generates panic and pressure. Am I grieving enough? Have I reached the right stage? I’ve sometimes worried that I don’t appear mournful enough! Thank goodness for the wisdom of scripture in Ecclesiastes 3:4 There’s a time to mourn and a time to dance. I’ve experienced sorrow and joy at the same time, it fluctuates throughout my day. I’ve had times when I can’t see the worship song for tears and then 30 minutes later I sense a warm feeling of peace and contentment which can only come from a God who cares and loves me.

Food deliveries

Work colleagues have been very thoughtful and just turned up with food! My local church signed me up for something called Food Train which delivered food every day for nearly a month. It was such a blessing and one less thing for me to think about.

Follow through on your promises

There have been disappoints, but the best experiences have been with people who take the initiative and actively follow up with suggestions. They’ve called me or suggested dates to meet up or drop off food. Similarly a few people would arrange to come round and tidy up, clean, iron and just show practically that they cared for me. These acts of service have been so gratefully received from people who walk the talk and follow through on what they say.

So there you have it, a few honest and deeply personal thoughts about what has and hasn’t helped me in the earliest stages of my bereavement. Of course, everyone’s journey with grief will be different, the needs and wants of others may be totally different to mine. There’s no one size fits all but I hope that my story is an encouragement to tread extra carefully with the newly bereaved. If you truly want to help a broken hearted soul please do pray for discernment and sensitivity about what their individual needs might be and how best you might meet them.

Neville Patterson is Chairman of the Good News Broadcasting Association. He plays competitive table tennis and enjoys working with people taking part in the Celebrate Recovery programme.

A duty of care

By Val Fraser

Editor’s have a duty of care towards their writers and I confess to hesitating about publishing this vulnerable piece written by my remarkable friend Nev. He is one of the most open and honest Christian men I’ve ever met. At a time when many of us would want to hide away from the world Nev has chosen to share his deeply personal story for the benefit of others. I salute his astonishing bravery!

BRF produce free resources about bereavement which can be found here.

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Until next time, God bless

Val Fraser, Editor

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