Recently I’ve been thinking about our world and the suffering which surrounds us. I long to see wars cease, poverty end, and those in pain made whole. I know this is huge and not within my power or remit, yet the longing remains. I want to see peace!

I pray, and God whispers the same old question in my ear. ‘Do you trust me? Trust him? Of course, I do. Or at least I want to…. I know that he cares for me, that he cares for everyone in this world.

            But I want to see change and I tell him so. Frank words flow from my cerebral mind; words firmly lodged in my head which don’t seem to fall into my heart. As those words slow and become simpler, I grasp hold of a portion of the Lord’s prayer or a line of scripture. Very often, I simply speak the name of Jesus out loud.

I want prayer to dwell in my being. But for that to be reality, I must be quiet and still, and that doesn’t come quickly or easily to me. I need to listen attentively with my whole being, open my heart to him and let his Spirit reign in me. I have experienced this and there have been places where I’ve felt able to relate to God more comfortably, such as sitting in an old chair taking in a breathtaking view or stopping in the forest to listen to a woodpecker tap away at the bark of a tree. Those places seem to welcome my presence, allowing me to sense God close. But I don’t live in those places. I live in the messy hustle and bustle of everyday life, trying to balance a full schedule with times of quietness, trying to prayer when my mind is distracted by a thousand thoughts and tasks.

            ‘Just be with Jesus,’ a friend said. ‘Speak to him in your own way.’ Words easily spoken, but far harder to live out. In the busyness, I take a step towards God, realising that he desires connection amid the chaos of community.

I want to understand God and the situations I live in more deeply. However, I am beginning to see that he is more interested in my openness to him rather than in me gaining knowledge, for he desires to plant his word in me. For a moment I wait. Silent, learning to be patient and with Jesus, I quietly observe him at work in the world and my life.

Slow and, at times, painful, this is the journey of following God. Sometimes I fail, other times his grace, enables me to obey, rarely am I completely faithful. But I draw closer and pray. Revelation comes, uncovering what was covered to my eyes, dispelling illusions and enabling me to be honest with him and myself. He begins to speak and nurture me, bringing a peace and a hunger for more of God.

In our world of change and pain, he is constant, our immovable anchor, steadfast and sure. I cannot change this world. But the truth is: I can, by God’s grace, bring his light and peace into the situations where he allows me to have influence.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2026