Dominic Cooper, Martine McCutcheon, Rev Richard Coles and OMD

From writer Abdul-Rehman Malik:

Chris, I must admit, the first time I delivered a Pause for Thought, I felt like an imposter. I knew something about the great personalities who’d delivered masterful meditations on life and faith over the years: priests and bishops, rabbis and theologians. They were women and men of influence and acclaim. I was none of these things. What would I be able to offer? What could I say which already hadn’t been said?

 This week marks 7 years – almost to the day – since I became a Pause for Thought contributor. For the most of the last two, I’ve had the privilege of delivering my thoughts from this studio, on this program.

 I have heard this is called – to the chagrin of some – the “God slot” – the time of day when the listening nation is asked to engage in some kind of spiritual reflection. It can seem a bit old fashioned.

 I’ve always thought of these few minutes as a kind of “story time” for busy adults. As we weave through traffic tying to get the kids to school on time, settle in to a long day of work or crawl into bed after a gruelling night shift, I hope I can offer a vignette from my life or experience that’ll make somebody smile, sigh or say “aha”.

 “Forget your perfect offering,” intoned the late sage Leonard Cohen. “There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

 Over 7 years, I’ve learned that life’s biggest lessons are found in our everyday struggles, in how we navigate an embarrassing situation, a new love or a broken heart. They’re found in our ability to laugh at our follies. A dozen textbooks of theology couldn’t have taught me the things about God that my six-year old son has.

 There are still weeks I feel I’ve run out of things to say and I have nothing more left to give. And then I perform my own orchestral manoeuvres in the dark. I try to be vulnerable and dig deeper. I am sure there are times I fail to connect. I hope there have been times when I’ve made someone’s day.

 I’ll be away for the next few months. I hope you’ll have me back. I’ll keep trying to tell better stories and not be afraid to find those cracks where the light most certainly gets in.