Everything is going to be alright

I left London on Thursday… the most beautiful day, but it was hard to concentrate. The world was holding its breath.  I arrived in Dorset, exhausted. Charlie was awake early the following morning. I wasn’t sure I was ready to get out of bed, but he was meeting our neighbour Nicky for their regular walk. I dragged myself up.

Thank goodness.

However strange the world, however tired my mind, there is nothing more peaceful and restorative than this hour, tramping up the hills and down again, as a new dawn is breaking.

Mist hung over the fields, and pockets of frost lay here and there.

First light on the hills. 

This timeless place has seen it all.  As some kind person commented on my instagram photographs of this view, you can imagine Roman Legionaries marching over these same ancient hills on a morning like this. 

Today, it was just us. 

It was a beautiful day, but I had my head deep in work, and the world had its head deep in politics.  As the sun lowered, the house was filled with an astonishing light.

We climbed the scaffold (the windows are being painted and repaired at the moment).

A different perspective as dusk fell…

Charlie has spent the last week digging a huge patch in the meadow for his show veg and flowers for 2021. Gardening is the most optimistic pursuit of all. 

Saturday. A heavy mist had rolled in. The fog felt apposite. 

And then the news broke, yesterday afternoon, that the result had been called for the American election.

It has been an eternal drum beat of mine, these last 10 or 12 years now, that at the end of the day, everything will be alright.  Democracy has spoken. But the beauty of democracy is that she is neutral. She spoke also when the President was elected, four years ago; and she has spoken again, now.  The key is to listen not only to the now, and the excitement of the 75 million who have spoken so loudly, but to answer the worries of the other 70 million as well.

I pray for peace, for healing; and for oil to be poured gently, wisely, on the troubled waters of America.

This morning, we had a quiet moment at the War Memorial, remembering, as we always do, the seven men of this tiny village who died during the First World War. 

Afterwards, rain clearing, Charlie and I took the dogs for our walk. 

This is the Collect for this Sunday, that was read in our brief commemoration by the war memorial.


Almighty Father,

whose will is to restore all things in your beloved Son, the King of all:

govern the hearts and minds of those in authority, and bring the families of the nations,

divided and torn apart by the ravages of sin, to be subject to his just and gentle rule;

who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and for ever.

Keep us, good Lord, under the shadow of your mercy in this time of uncertainty and distress.

Sustain and support the anxious and fearful, be with those who care for the sick,

and lift up all who are brought low; that we may rejoice in your comfort

knowing that nothing can separate us from your love in Christ Jesus our Lord.



Your blessed hills, vales, bosques, pathways, by now so familiar as i travel, remotely, with you, Charlie and the dogs seem to express, even more than usual, assurance of the eternal, the comfort available in the beauty of the natural world. Here in American, dark clouds abate; frightened, weary souls lift, the clarion call resounds as prospect for repair, renewal and salvation.


How lovely that you have quoted the Collect for Remembrance Sunday Ben. It is a wonderful way to open up hope for the future for us all. Thank you.


Thank you – lovely, as well as sensible and thoughtful

Dr Mitchell Leimon

Thank you Ben. Like you, we have been working hard to ensure work for our teams; to be positive about changing political landscapes and to add interest to our lives during Lockdown 2.0. Your wonderful words on a Monday morning add perspective to these worrying times and really do set me up to face the week with renewed hope and vigour!

Jane Kaula

Dear Ben, thank you for your gentle soothing pictures. For your reminder that all is not lost and madness but that nature and the seasons calmly carry on. In my kitchen in Norfolk is a painting of a feather and words from psalm 91. He will cover you with His feathers and under His wings you will find refuge. Words for the whole world.

Lynn Egger

Leave a comment

Please note, comments need to be approved before they are published.

Latest Arrivals

1 of 2
1 of 4

Best Sellers