This morning, Keir Starmer stood outside 10 Downing Street and announced his resignation as Prime Minister and Labour Party leader. Less than two years ago, I wrote a hopeful post titled “A New Day” when he swept into power on a landslide victory. I celebrated. I prayed for him. I genuinely hoped this would be a turning point for our country. I had no idea we would be here so soon. Although there have been writings on the wall, Sir Keir Starmer resisted this for as long as he could.

I wonder, what changed, Andy Burnham? Donald Trump just wrote on his Truth Social media over the weekend about Keir Starmer resigning, and now the PM is gone. That’s unsettling.

This makes Keir Starmer the sixth Prime Minister to leave office in a decade. Six. In ten years. I am not a political commentator, and I make no apology for that. But I am British, a Christian, a pacifist, and a woman who loves this country deeply, and I am troubled. Not just by the resignation itself, but by the alarming speed at which our political leadership keeps unravelling.

Stability matters. It matters for our economy, our communities, our standing in the world, and the ordinary people who simply want to wake up tomorrow knowing that someone competent and principled is steering this ship. Constant change at the top is not a strength. It is a symptom of something much deeper that we need to address.

And now, Andy Burnham is widely tipped to be the next leader. He may well be a capable man. But will he last? And will whoever follows him last? This revolving door cannot continue indefinitely without consequences for our nation. It’s unsettling that the leadership crisis is only one thread in our frayed political landscape. I look around Britain right now, and my heart aches. The stabbing on our streets. The anger. The division. Genuine questions are being raised about policing, fairness, and whether the law is being applied equally to everyone, regardless of faith or background. These are not fringe concerns. They are the conversations happening in homes, churches, community halls, and social media feeds across this land.

As a Christian, I find it particularly concerning that fellow believers report being questioned by police for praying or sharing their faith publicly. In contrast, others openly worship in the streets without such interference. I am not interested in stoking further division by pointing fingers. But I am allowed to name what I observe and to ask, are we truly being consistent? Are we being fair?

Britain deserves fairness. Britain deserves consistency. Britain deserves leaders who govern not just for some of us, but for all of us. I believe in this country. I believe in its people, its resilience, its capacity for kindness. I have seen it. But we are divided right now in ways that genuinely frighten me, and division, left unaddressed, has a way of deepening into something much harder to heal.

So I am doing what I always do when the world feels unstable. I am praying. I am praying for Andy Burnham, or whoever emerges from this leadership process. I am praying for wisdom, integrity, and the courage to govern with justice and compassion. I am praying for our streets, that they would become safer, that the grief of those who have lost loved ones to violence would be met with real solutions and not political statements.

Most of all, I am praying for unity. Not the kind that demands we all agree on everything, but the kind that insists we see each other as human beings first. As the Bible reminds me, we are called to love our neighbours. All of them. That is not naive. That is the most radical thing we can choose in a time like this.

Can Britain find its way back to itself? Is unity still possible in a nation this divided? I believe it is. But it will take more than a new Prime Minister. It will take a change of heart across our communities, our media, our politics, and, yes, our churches, too.

I am praying for the UK. Does anyone care to join me?

Much love, always.