The Journey Begins - Moving to the City!

Moving to the City!

Stories of faith, friendships, and navigating His call!

The world often tells those in their twenties to chase success, money, and lust. Build the career. Earn the salary. Find status. Make a name for yourself...

But Jesus has always invited us into a better story. A story marked by calling over comparison, brotherhood over isolation, and sacrificial love over self-interest.

This blog is my attempt to document that story—not because I've mastered it, most definitely not lol, but because I'm living it. The highs, the heartbreaks, the laughter, the mistakes, the awkward moments and the incredible faithfulness of God.

So, welcome to the journey.

Leaving home… again

A funny question people ask is, “Where’s home?”

Honestly, I’m not sure anymore.

A few months ago I graduated from Elim Bible College in Malvern after three of the most formative years of my life. Before that, home was Yeovil in Somerset—a place where I had found an incredible church family, served for a few years, and discovered my love for ministry.

Then my parents moved to Cheshire.

Suddenly, the place I always called home wasn’t really home anymore.

Leaving Yeovil was hard. I left a church I adored, leaders who believed in me, and people who had become family. Ironically, those same leaders encouraged me to go. They saw something in me that I struggled to see myself, and although part of me wrestled with feeling unwanted, I now realise they were pushing me toward God’s next adventure.

Then came the even harder goodbye.

Bible college wasn’t just where I studied theology. It was where I found brothers.

Not the casual kind of friendship where you grab coffee every now and then, but the kind forged through shared kitchens, late-night worship, deadlines, road trips, arguments, laughter, and countless prayers.

There was one night during my final year that I’ll never forget.

The trauma of losing my parents at a young age, alongside the trauma of my teenage years, caught up with me. Everything I’d buried came rushing to the surface. I broke down. 

My fiancée Chloe ran to find the boys.

Within minutes they were there—sitting beside me, praying over me, saying very little but loving me incredibly well. In one of the darkest moments of my life, God spoke louder than words ever could.

He showed me the power of friendship.

Not friendship as convenience.

Friendship as family.

Those were the guys I had to leave behind.

And if I’m honest, I never really let myself grieve it. I hid behind the excitement of finishing my degree because processing goodbye felt too much like weakness — something I wasn't necessarily prepared to do quite just yet.

When Bristol wasn’t my plan

If you’d asked me a year ago where I’d end up, Bristol probably wouldn’t have made the list. Bristol wasn't even a thought in my mind.

The real beginning of this story actually starts in Australia.

A few years ago I joined YWAM. It became the re-awakening of my faith—the moment Jesus stopped being religion and became relationship. It was the meteor that crashed into my life and completely redirected it. A sinner condemned by sin, now living free because of Christ Jesus.

During that time I travelled to Nepal on mission.

I watched God do things I still struggle to explain: people delivered from demons, scoliosis healed, blind eyes opening, lives transformed. Whether you’ve experienced those things or not, I know what I saw.

But the greatest miracle wasn’t around me.

It was what God planted within me.

He gave me dreams of a future ministry that would help churches become financially sustainable by creating businesses that fund community transformation, while simultaneously planting non-profit initiatives across the world. It sounded impossible, let alone for someone with no experience in business haha.

So I put it on the back burner.

Fast forward to my final year of theology. Graduation was approaching, I needed a job, somewhere to live, and, truthfully, I was applying for everything.

UN Peacekeeping roles.

Barnabas Aid.

International charities.

Anything that looked vaguely connected to mission.

I was desperately trying to force open doors.

Then I met Luke Goodway for coffee.

I shared my heart for mission, community development, and seeing the Church become a force for good in a society that has seemingly turned its back on the Church. Halfway through the conversation he looked at me and said something that changed everything:

“Have you ever considered church planting in Bristol? We have a role that could be possible.”

My heart skipped a beat.

I took it to Chloe. We prayed. She felt God speak about stepping into the charity vision, and I couldn’t shake an overwhelming love and growing spiritual hunger for a place I barely knew: Lockleaze.

Looking back now, I can see God smiling while I frantically filled out application forms.

I thought I knew what I needed, but clearly not lol.

God kept whispering,

“Be patient, my child. I have something better.”

And He did.

Am I enough?

Can I confess something?

I nearly talked myself out of this calling.

Every morning seemed to begin with another question.

Am I old enough?

Do I know enough?

Am I spiritually mature enough?

What if I fail?

The battle of the flesh and the Spirit became incredibly real. My insecurity shouted while God usually whispered.

His whisper was always the same:

“Be patient, my child.”

Since arriving in Lockleaze, I’ve watched Him do what only He could do.

Churches that had been hesitant are now pursuing unity.

A partnership with UWE formed within my first two months after years of hoping.

A local pub opened its doors completely free of charge so we could host Alpha for students and young adults every Wednesday.

Our very first young adults gathering welcomed 11 people.

This week, another part of the vision God placed on my heart launches into the world.

None of that happened because I’m gifted.

None of that happened because I knew enough.

None of that happened because of anything I had done.

If anything, it happened despite me.

God's grace and favour really is that offensive!

The tension that nobody talks about - Ministry Vs Social Life

Here’s the strange part.

Everything I’ve prayed for is happening…

…and I’ve still felt really lonely.

That feels almost wrong to admit.

How can you be living in answered prayer and still long for more?

But maybe someone reading this knows exactly what I mean.

I miss brothers.

I miss the spontaneous knock on the door.

I miss five-minute walks becoming two-hour conversations.

I miss the endless fifa nights and late night maccies trips.

I miss knowing there were people around me who saw me beyond ministry.

Moving to a city is exciting. Moving to a city where you work six days a week and barely know anyone is something else entirely.

People assume church planting means constantly being surrounded by people.

The reality is you can spend all day serving people while quietly wondering who’s checking in on you. I'm not talking about the mentor on the end of the phone, but the friends that you can always rely on.

Now, that’s been the contention of my heart.

Enter Ethan… and a £300 lesson

Don’t lose faith yet.

God’s got a sense of humour.

One of my closest friends—Ethan Palmer—has now moved to Bristol as an assistant pastor of Cairns Road Baptist Church. Whoop Whoop!

Can I get an “oooooh!”

He’s one of the very men who sat beside me on that night at bible college when I was cripped by fear, my breath stuck in my throat, and my world seeming dark. A man of ridiculous faith, incredible character, and annoyingly… annoyingly good at football.

Having him nearby has already brought peace.

And now for the embarrassing part.

The first time I went over for dinner with Ethan and Alisha, I managed to crash my car.

Welcome to Bristol.

One minute I’m carefully attempting to parallel park. The next I’m standing in the road with a moped driver shouting, “Cash! Cash! Cash!”

Coming from quiet country lanes to Bristol’s busy streets, I wasn’t mentally prepared to transfer £300 to a stranger before dessert.

Consider that my official induction into city life haha. 

Jesus, closer than a brother

I still don’t have this season figured out.

I’m still learning how to build friendships as an adult in a city that never seems to grow silent.

I’m still discovering how to find that 'work-life balance' everyone seems to grumble on about.

I’m still asking God questions I don’t yet have answers to.

But one truth has anchored me through every goodbye, every move, every insecurity, every answered prayer, and every lonely evening.

And that is...Jesus is closer than a brother.

When familiar places disappear, He remains.

When friendships evolve, He remains.

When calling feels overwhelming, He remains.

So if you’re in your twenties and you’re wondering whether anyone else feels like they’re making it up as they go…

You’re not alone.

I’m journeying too.

And my prayer is that together we’ll discover that God’s plans really do exceed anything we could ask, think, dream, or imagine.

See you in the next one.

Luke, 23 years old. 

25/08/26