Ffald-y-Brenin feels like the edge of the world. It’s miles of disorientating Welsh country road from anywhere, you can see nothing but fields from here, as far as the horizon, and the silence has an almost physical weight. The perfect place to come on retreat. My hostess encourages me “Be sure to go out to the cross, while you’re here. God’s doing some powerful things there.” Quite a recommendation. So, I make my way out. At the top of a rocky slope, out of sight of the buildings, is a six-foot tall, plain, wooden cross. As soon as I see it, I wonder why I’m there. I think back to my nightmarish journey. It feels like a pilgrimage, and I’m here for the same reason as any pilgrim - to seek God. The cross resembles a signpost, pointing left, right and up, and I realise that God actually is all around me, in the silent, panoramic view, stretching away on every side. I drove for six hours to get here, to discover God was actually all around me back in London. The irony. I can picture God with a wry smile on his face. I turn to leave, but I know I’m not leaving alone.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 27th, 2005 at 6:19 pmand is filed under MPH Competition.