Last Saturday, I attended a church seminar in the city, which marked my second visit to London since arriving in the UK at the beginning of September. That afternoon, on my way back to Kent, I decided to take the opportunity for a quick stroll around Embankment.

Summary:Jeremiah 29:11 is not a shortcut to comfort. God spoke these words to a people far from home, with seventy years of waiting ahead of them. That long road between promise and fulfilment has marked my own journey, from seminary days to ministry, and now in this season of rebuilding in the UK. Through years of wrestling with trust and obedience, I have come to realise that grace is often found in waiting. Obedience makes room for God's promises to grow beyond what we imagine.

There are places you land that don't make much sense on the map: a postcode that looks like a compromise, a photograph that promised one thing and delivered another. North Camp, Aldershot, is one of those places on paper, and I dare say statistics and reputation do not flatter it. I could list the figures; some of you may already be familiar with the headlines. The surprise for me was not the town's rough edges but that I would find myself in a tiny room inside a shared Muslim house and feel, remarkably, at peace.

I'll be honest—contentment has not come easy to me. In recent years, it's been a persistent struggle, not because I don't want it, but because life keeps offering pressure that pulls me back into old patterns of worry and wanting more. Recently, I made a radical decision as a husband and father: I went on a scout trip to seek a fresh start for my family. It was meant to be a season of listening and of opening a new door. Instead, being away from my young family and navigating a fog of uncertainty triggered my default response: discontent! I found myself replaying "what ifs," measuring loss, and asking God to show purpose and plan in real time.