AS I stood in the downpour amongst hundreds of others around the cenotaph in Stanford-le-Hope last Sunday, I couldn’t help thinking about what the soldiers at Paschendale and on the Somme suffered as they slipped and slid through the mud and torrential rain.

In a way the slight inconvenience of damp coats and waterlogged shoes helped remind us of the huge sacrifices of our ancestors.

I’m glad we call it Remembrance Sunday. Being challenged to remember something – even something as dreadful as war – is important.

In a time when most things are instant, it is heartening to see that remembering something that happened 100 years ago seems to be growing in popularity, rather than waning.

Like giving thanks for what your granddad and great-granddad did, so you could keep the right to complain about the government. Remember?

Like watching the documentaries and programmes that show the old photos and tell that history again. Remember?

Like hearing the stories of incredible heroism achieved by little men in epic circumstances. Remember?

Like our brave soldiers in Afghanistan and the constancy of the mourners of Wootton Bassett. Remember?

Like the organisations such as the British Legion, RAFA and Help for Heroes and the plucky lads, Peter and Stuart, who cycled to Belgium and back to raise money and awareness. Remember?

And like the God who provokes us to acts of kindness and longs for peace in the world He made and who loves us so much He’d rather die than live without us. Remember. – John.