From Waste to Wonder

Portchester is a little town perched on the edge of Portsmouth Harbour, where the chalky downlands rise gently above the village and the water glimmers below. It’s a beautiful place to live. I’ve been here since I was a little girl—long enough to see the open fields give way to rows of houses, and to feel both the ache of change and the comfort of belonging.

Most mornings, I take an early walk with my dog, Jenny. We follow the golf course path, just as the sun begins to rise—or tries to, on grey English mornings. It’s a quiet place, where mist drifts across the fairways and the trees seem to whisper. One morning, five years ago, it was there that I found the Lord Jesus.

That day, the sun shone through the dew, the birds sang, and something deep inside me stirred. I felt a sudden urge to sing All Things Bright and Beautiful—a hymn I hadn’t sung since school days. And there, surrounded by creation, I felt His presence so strongly that I knew: I had been found.

Since then, I’ve walked the same path in all seasons. I’ve watched deer prance through the morning mist, gathered rose hips in autumn and blackberries in summer, and filled buckets with apples, plums, cherries, and damsons from the old Cams Estate orchard that once stretched as far as Cranleigh Road.

It saddens me, though, to see how litter and sewage stain this lovely place. For a while, that anger burned in me. How could people treat God’s creation like this? But as I picked up each discarded bottle or crisp packet, I began to pray—for the earth, for its healing, and for those who had forgotten how to care. Slowly, I found joy even there: joy in service, in prayer, and in knowing that renewal can come to all things, great and small.

That was the beginning of Artcycle. At first, it was just me, Jenny, and a bin bag. But prayer changed everything. One piece of rubbish at a time, I felt the Lord turning my frustration into hope. And from those prayers grew a vision—to bring the community together, not just to clean up, but to create.

Now, Artcycle is a place where people of all ages come to transform what was once waste into works of art. We make beauty from broken things. We talk, we laugh, we share tea and stories. And as we work, we rediscover something sacred: the power to renew.

The litter that once seemed a curse has become a symbol of healing. I see now that it’s more than rubbish—it’s a cry, a sign of our spiritual disconnect. But through art, we reimagine it with value. We remind ourselves, and each other, that there is light, hope, and purpose enough to renew both hearts and landscapes.

I no longer dream of some place better. Portchester, with all its imperfections, has become holy ground to me. Here I’ve learned that God’s goodness is not found in distant lands, but in the quiet corners of our own communities—on a misty footpath, beside a faithful dog, with a litter picker in hand and a hymn on the heart.

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true,
whatever is honourable, whatever is just,
whatever is pure, whatever is lovely,
whatever is commendable—if there is any moral excellence
and if there is anything praiseworthy—dwell on these things.”
— Philippians 4:8