All Are Welcome

At St Nicholas Methodist you will find a friendly welcome where we help each other to worship God, and strive to live more like Christ in service beyond the walls of our church building. We are part of the Exeter Coast and Country Circuit.

Tuesday, 11 August 2026

Daily Devotions


Resting in God’s Nearness

Many have tried to put words to the nearness of God. Dorothy Frances Gurney, in God’s Garden, concludes that “One is nearer God’s heart in a garden than anywhere else on earth.” Alfred Lord Tennyson goes even further, writing, “Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.” These images remind us that God’s presence is not distant or hard to reach, but intimate, surrounding us even when we are barely aware of it.


Jesus understood how vital this nearness was. In Mark 6:31, after a period of intense ministry, he says to his disciples, “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” This is not simply permission to stop working; it is an invitation into relationship. Jesus knows that weariness of body and spirit cannot be healed by activity alone, but by returning to the presence of God who sustains all things.


Illustration:

Imagine a mobile phone that is constantly used but rarely charged. Apps are open, messages arrive, notifications buzz—until eventually the battery drains. The phone hasn’t stopped being a phone, but without reconnecting to its power source, it cannot function as it was designed to. In much the same way, we often try to keep going without intentionally reconnecting with God. Resting in God’s nearness is not switching off our calling; it is plugging back into the Source.


Henri Nouwen once observed, “We aren’t rest-filled people who occasionally become restless; we’re restless people who sometimes find rest.” Ruth Barton adds a sobering warning: if we live in constant distraction, we never reach the deeper places of pain and emptiness where God’s peace can truly meet us.


Challenge:

This week, choose one deliberate moment to “come away”—even briefly. Turn off distractions, sit in silence, and become aware of God who is closer than your next breath. Trust that the work will wait, and that God is at work even as you rest.


Prayer:

Loving God, you are nearer than we dare to believe. Teach us to pause, to trust, and to rest in your presence. Quiet our restless hearts, meet us in our weariness, and renew us with the peace that only you can give. Amen.


Monday, 10 August 2026

Daily Devotions


Learning to Wait

Every parent knows the sound of impatience. A child desperate to get on with the next activity tugs at your sleeve, bouncing with urgency, until at last you say—perhaps more sharply than intended—“Wait.” To the child, waiting feels like wasted time. To the parent, it is often necessary for safety, timing, or something better still to come.


Isaiah 40:31 speaks into that same tension of impatience and trust:

“But those who wait for the LORD will renew their strength; they will rise up on wings as eagles, they will run and not be exhausted, they will walk and not be weary.”


Waiting for the Lord is not simply about killing time until God finally acts. The Hebrew sense of “wait” carries the idea of hoping, trusting, and actively depending on God. It is less about standing still and more about leaning in.


When life feels overwhelming—when energy is depleted and answers are slow to come—we long for renewal. Isaiah reminds us that renewed strength is promised, but it is discovered in waiting. Not frantic striving. Not anxious rushing ahead. Waiting.


Illustration:

An eagle does not constantly flap its wings. Instead, it waits for rising air currents—thermals—to lift it higher. The eagle must be alert and responsive, but it does not create the wind. It trusts it. In the same way, waiting on God is learning to recognise and rely on God’s movement rather than exhausting ourselves with constant effort.


So what do we do while we wait? We pray. We listen. We remain faithful in the small, ordinary steps—walking before we run, trusting before we soar. Waiting shapes our character, deepens our faith, and aligns our timing with God’s purposes.


Challenge:

This week, notice where impatience shows up in your life. Instead of pushing through immediately, pause and pray: “Lord, help me to wait on you here.” Ask what God might be teaching you in the waiting rather than asking only how to escape it.


Prayer:

Faithful God,

we confess that we often rush ahead of you, trusting our own strength rather than yours. Teach us to wait—not with frustration, but with hope. Renew our strength as we trust your timing. Help us to walk faithfully, to run with perseverance, and, in your time, to rise on wings like eagles.

Amen.


Sunday, 9 August 2026

Daily Devotional


Be Still by the Waters

I don’t know about you, but when I finally have the opportunity to stop and relax—perhaps on holiday or during a quiet retreat—it often takes my mind far longer to arrive than my body. The space for stillness is there, yet something within keeps churning. Like water after a storm, the surface may look calm, but underneath the currents keep moving.


It’s then that I hear the gentle words of Katharina von Schlegel’s hymn, “Be still, my soul! the Lord is on your side”, and realise how easily peace can feel just out of reach. The hymn does not deny grief, pain, or thorny paths; instead, it invites us to trust that God is present in every change, faithfully leading us through.


Psalm 46:10 echoes this call: “Be still, and know that I am God.” This is not simply an invitation to relax; it is a summons to stop striving, to loosen our grip on control, and to recognise God’s sovereignty above all chaos. Like standing by deep waters, we are asked to pause, to listen, and to remember who truly holds the tide.


Illustration

Imagine a lake early in the morning. Overnight winds have stirred it, but as dawn breaks the water begins to settle. The stillness doesn’t come because the lake tries harder—it comes because the winds have ceased. In the same way, stillness of soul is not something we manufacture; it is something we receive when we allow God to quiet the forces that drive us.


Challenge

This week, find a moment to sit by water—real or imagined. A river, a bath, a glass of water on the table. As you look, breathe slowly and pray the words, “Be still.” Resist the urge to fill the silence. Let God be God.


Prayer

Faithful God,

when my thoughts churn like troubled waters,

teach me to be still.

Still my striving, calm my fears,

and help me trust your faithful presence

in every change.

Lead me, even through thorny ways,

into the deep peace that comes from knowing

you are God.

Amen.


Saturday, 8 August 2026

Daily Devotions


The Coming and Going of the Tide

Having grown up by the sea, I still carry coastal reminders with me. On my staircase hangs a tide clock, quietly tracking the ebb and flow of the water. At its simplest, it echoes the old saying, “time and tide wait for no one,” a phrase with deep roots in history. It reminds me that life moves on, whether we are ready or not.


Yet at a deeper level, the coming and going of the tide speaks of God’s hand upon creation. The rhythm of the sea reflects the truth found in Ecclesiastes 3:1: “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” The tide does not rush or linger; it moves according to a pattern set beyond itself. So too with our lives.


Ecclesiastes reminds us that life is shaped by seasons—times of joy and times of sorrow, moments of building up and times of letting go. These changes are not random or meaningless. Even when we cannot see the whole picture, each season plays its part in forming us, teaching us, and preparing us for what lies ahead. The famous poem in Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 names the full range of human experience and gently reassures us that none of it is wasted in God’s economy.


The tide also teaches us balance. When the sea withdraws, it exposes rocks and seaweed we rarely notice; when it returns, it brings freshness and life. In the same way, changing seasons in our lives may reveal truths we would rather avoid, or bring unexpected blessings. Through it all, God remains constant—faithful, present, and steady—while our circumstances rise and fall.


Illustration / Challenge

Imagine standing on the shore, watching the tide roll out. Instead of fighting it or wishing it would hurry back, you simply notice what is revealed. This week, reflect on the “season” you are currently in. What might God be showing you in this time? Rather than resisting change, can you trust God with both the coming and the going?


Prayer

Faithful God,

You are Lord of time and seasons. When life feels uncertain or unsettled, help us to trust your steady hand. Teach us to accept the season we are in, to learn what you are revealing, and to hope in your unchanging love. As the tide ebbs and flows, may our hearts rest in you.

Amen.


Friday, 7 August 2026

Daily Devotions


When Jesus Walks the Shoreline

Mark 1:16–18


One of my favourite pastimes is walking along the tideline on a sandy shore, searching for perfect shells. Every now and then I pick one up that looks promising, only to discover it is cracked or broken by the pounding waves. Instinctively, I throw it back. It doesn’t belong in my “collection.”


But I’ve often thought since: it’s a very good thing God is not like that with people.


If God only chose the flawless, heaven’s display case would be nearly empty. When Jesus walked the shoreline of Galilee, He didn’t call polished saints — He called working fishermen with rough hands, mixed motives, and imperfect understanding. Yet Mark tells us that when He said, “Follow me,” they followed. Jesus saw not just who they were, but who they could become.


We spend a lot of energy trying to look unbroken — hiding cracks, polishing appearances, managing impressions. But nothing about us is hidden from Christ. He knows our history, our weaknesses, our inconsistencies — and still He calls us. His invitation is not based on our perfection but on His grace.


Notice too that when the disciples followed, they didn’t just leave something — they took up something. They dropped their nets, yes — their security, routine, and control — but they also took up a new calling. Later Jesus would describe it as taking up the cross. Discipleship is not only release; it is responsibility. Not only surrender; also purpose.


Illustration:

If you collected only flawless shells, you would miss the ones shaped with the most interesting patterns — the ones whose marks tell a story. God is not building a display of perfect specimens but a living kingdom of redeemed lives.


Challenge:

What “net” might you need to loosen your grip on today — a habit, fear, comfort, or plan — so you can more freely follow where Jesus is calling? And what cross-shaped calling might you need to take up instead?


Prayer:

Lord Jesus, you walk the shoreline of our lives and call us as we are — not as we pretend to be. Thank you that you do not discard us because of our flaws. Give us courage to drop whatever holds us back and faith to take up the calling you place before us. Shape our imperfect lives into faithful discipleship. Amen.

Thursday, 6 August 2026

Daily Devotions


A Place of Calling — Matthew 4:18–20

Jesus met Simon Peter and Andrew not in a synagogue, not in a palace, but at work — hands wet, nets heavy, routine familiar. “Come, follow me,” he said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” The divine met the ordinary on a shoreline. Their workplace became their worship place. Their routine became their turning point.


Calling often arrives dressed as interruption. God steps into the middle of normal life and names a new future.


Think of a builder repairing a wall who discovers a hidden doorway behind loose plaster. What looked like simple maintenance becomes an entrance to a whole new space. Peter and Andrew thought they were casting nets for fish. Jesus showed them they were standing at the doorway to transformed purpose.


Notice two things about this calling.


First, it is transformational. “Fish for people” means their existing skills — patience, persistence, teamwork, courage — would not be wasted but redirected. Jesus rarely discards our experience; he redeploys it.


Second, it is marked by immediate response. “At once they left their nets.” Not because they understood everything, but because they trusted the One who called. Obedience often precedes full clarity.


The hymn says it well:

“Jesus calls us o’er the tumult of our life’s wild, restless sea…”

His voice still sounds — not only in dramatic moments, but through conversations, needs we notice, nudges we feel, opportunities we could ignore but shouldn’t.


Challenge


Where is your shoreline today — your ordinary place of nets and routines? Listen there. Ask: What might Jesus be redirecting rather than replacing? Choose one small, immediate act of obedience this week — a conversation, an encouragement, an invitation, a step of service. Don’t wait for perfect certainty. Respond to the voice you recognize.


Prayer


Lord Jesus,

You walk into the ordinary places of our lives and speak extraordinary invitations. Help us to hear your voice above the noise and busyness. Give us courage to loosen our grip on what is familiar and trust where you lead. Transform our everyday skills into kingdom service. Make us ready, willing, and responsive disciples.

Call us — and help us answer, “Yes.”

Amen.


Wednesday, 5 August 2026

Daily Devotions


The Voice of the Lord Over the Waters

Have you ever noticed how sound travels across water? Scientists tell us it moves far faster and farther than through air because water is dense and closely packed — vibrations pass efficiently with little loss. Across a lake, a voice or bell can carry with surprising clarity.


Psalm 29 draws on that same image:


“The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders.”


To the psalmist, a storm was not just weather — it was revelation. Thunder became testimony. The crashing sky declared that God’s voice is not fragile or distant but powerful and present. In Scripture, waters often symbolise chaos and uncertainty — yet God’s voice rides above them, not beneath them.


We see this again in the Gospels. The disciples panic in a storm while Jesus sleeps. When He speaks — “Peace. Be still.” — the storm obeys. Wind and wave recognise their Maker’s voice.


Illustration

A lighthouse keeper was once asked what he did during violent storms. He replied, “I make sure the light stays on.” He could not calm the sea, redirect the wind, or steady the ships — but he could keep the light burning so the voice of guidance was not lost in the noise. Many ships were saved not because the storm stopped, but because the signal stayed clear.


God’s voice is that steady signal over life’s waters.


The question is not whether God speaks — Scripture is clear that He does — but whether we position ourselves to listen. Storm noise can fill our inner world: worry, hurry, opinion, anger, distraction. These sounds travel fast too. If we are not careful, they become louder to us than God.


Challenge

This week, deliberately create quiet space each day — even ten minutes — to listen for God’s voice through Scripture and prayer. Before reacting to the “storm sounds” around you, pause and ask: What has the Lord said? Let His word be the controlling sound wave, not your fear.


The psalm that begins with thunder ends with promise:


“The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.”


The loudest voice over your waters is not the storm — but the Lord.


Lord, I ask that Your powerful voice speak into my life, calming the storms within me just as You calm the storms of the earth. I pray that Your voice breaks down the obstacles—the "trees" that block my path—and moves the mountains keeping me from moving forward. Amen


About Us

We are a community of faith seeking to discover the face of Jesus Christ in our Church, in our Community and in our Commitment.