The week since Brexit

I’m not going to go into the whole Brexit thing here; there’s been too much said on many, many other media channels.  Suffice to say though that I was hugely disappointed with the he outcome.

I don’t know whether it was just the result of the referendum, or a deeper issue, but for the week since I have felt terribly, awfully low. I think to be honest that I’ve been running close to empty for quite a while and it was just this latest (major) disappointment which tipped me over the edge.  A combination of circumstances not one single thing, but the result was horrid.  I’ve not been in a good place at all.

I’ve not wanted to pray, to read my bible or even to text church friends to pray for me (usually my default course of action when in need of help).  I’ve not wanted to talk to anyone, to socialise or even to go out of my way to be pleasant.  I’ve been, like Eeyore, under a dark cloud and have been pretty poor company, even for myself.

Eventually though, I swallowed my pride and started to pray again.

And the only way I can describe the resultant feeling is that of taking a drink when very, very thirsty.  Like one of those times When you don’t realise how thirsty you have become and take that first sip, which turns into deep, deep gulps.

Refreshing. Revitalising.

Because even when we turn our backs for a short while, God is always there.  It seems that he’s waiting once again, patiently, lovingly for us to return to him.  And then when we do seek him, he’s ready to give us a dose of that same calming, loving, comforting forgiveness that is always there for us to receive.

The Psalmist wrote, time and time again about our Father’s “unfailing love”.  And that’s what it is.


Love that never, ever runs out or fails.

There’s nothing we can do to earn it. It’s ours freely to receive by God’s amazing grace, even (and maybe especially) in the middle of the worst storms.

If only we are humble enough to seek his presence and ask for it.

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