The walk was tiring me. I nearly cut a corner and turned back. But the brilliant, low-slung, white winter sun led me on, past a tiny country church. Again on returning I was tired, but turned back to read these words, or something like them, next to the door:

God be with me in my coming and going.
God be with me in my leisure and in my work.
God be with me in company and solitude.
God be with me in the hills and the valleys of life.
God be with me at my passing.

I’m glad I walked that little bit further to savour these words.