I hit a metaphorical wall a week ago. Just couldn’t face leaving London to sit alone up north participating in tedious fights with corrupt bureaucrats. Felt the burden of injustice and uncertainty dragging. Tired of financial stress. Upset by a relationship mishap. Unable to reconcile my spiritual leanings with my crazy urbanite life.

Didn’t have a good week. Won’t relay the gory mess. A very low point was when I denied myself grace and mercy for my follies. I felt hopelessly permanently defined by my less wise choices. Decided I was doomed to eternal failure in some aspects of life, especially having a life partner. Just wanted it to end. “Screw this stupid war, give me fun and do it now!”.

Am still here. One magical moment. As I headed off to do something inadvisable, a man stood outside Tower Hill tube preaching how the Bible says we are innately sinful and drawn to unrighteous things. He could never have known which passerby would be tuned in to what he said.

But I was.