I think God was in Chapel Allerton this morning

This week has been tough. I am not OK. Humanity should not be OK after witnessing what we have, in real time and over and over again on social media and constant news reports.

In these moments, of deep dark despair, and feeling hopeless, and hope-empty, there is also a desperate need to not feel quite so alone. This morning, I arranged to meet an Israeli friend. We met in Chapel Allerton (a lovely neighbourhood in Leeds). Whilst queueing, I spotted another friend, who looked distraught. He's married into a Jewish family and he's hurting right now. It was all over his face. We hugged and talked and I invited him to join us. But he couldn't - he'd only come in for a take away - so we chatted a little more and he left, hopefully with a little more connection, and hope, than when he walked in.

Comfortably seated with our drinks, my Israeli friend and I quickly found solidarity; sharing our grief, sharing our stories, sharing our concern for others we know who are directly affected, sharing messages of solidarity from others in our networks. I told her I had led an online prayer gathering this morning, and almost invited her, but didn't as I knew she wasn't religious in any way. We had a little laugh about that. It felt so good and incredibly therapeutic.

Then something amazing happened. Walking past us was another friend, a man who I first met when I was running my community cafe; a wonderful Muslim Yemeni man who came to the UK seeking safety for himself and his family a few years ago. We embraced. I invited him to sit with us, and he did.

We sat together for about 10 minutes, the three of us, extending solidarity, and sentiments of humanity, and of sorrow, of pain, of belief. My Yemeni friend talked about Hamas inflicting the worst kind of terror on the Israelis, how the Palestinian civilians are scared of Hamas, how his belief in Allah demands kindness, love and respect for all people. He spoke about Islam being a religion of peace,

His presence brought hope and a return of a sense of peace for both me and my Israeli friend that has been tragically absent this week.

At one point, he asked rhetorically, "Where is God?" and I thought to myself, "Perhaps just for this fleeting moment, God is here, sitting in a cafe in Chapel Allerton with us."

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If you're local to Leeds and you'd like an encounter like this, please take a look at the Events page for three intimate gatherings next week with this aim.

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