I can be quite good in a crowd. I don’t mind coming across as emotional. I will pick a side and argue as passionately as I can for it, I may not even really believe what I am saying. I am just testing out how the words feel as I say them. Help me see differently and I will happily move toward your side. I will do so with very little embarrassment and without apology.

Then I will begin again. Hear ye, hear ye! John Wick 4 and The Matrix 4 should have been the same movie! It was the greatest movie Hollywood never made! The nonsense rant will be entertaining. It is supposed to be.

But what about the things I really do believe? How ought I communicate those things? Yes, I can be quite good in a crowd. I can hold someones attention. This makes me scared to share publicly those things I hold sacred. If I communicate them in the same way it doesn’t feel like I am functioning from any gifting I may have. Instead I am left feeling like some kind of ancient Trickster god. I would tell you a story about why the Cheese Hamlet in Didsbury is the most important shop in Northwest England with greater fervour and playfulness than I may tell you about the experiences that led to my faith in Jesus. Precisely because I hold the latter so dear I am left terrified I may make it sound cheap.

This is why - as I get older - I have been making an effort to become quieter. But also, no! I must not! To make a noise is a very great privilege indeed. No, quiet is not the aim, quiet is simply a means to listen. A skill I count as most admirable in others but at which I remain a novice.

Perhaps all that’s left is to say that the way I communicate is often ridiculous, sometimes quiet, sometimes emotional, oftentimes laced with regretable turns of phrase. Yet, when I tell a story I can hold a room. I’ve been able to since I was a boy. It is likely time to nurse the gift, rather than curse the trick.