A few weeks ago, on a beautiful Saturday, I ended up swimming in a lovely, deep pool in the Wharfe. Its deep, cool water was refreshing on in afternoon heat and its current was strong in parts as it carved past the bank. My daughter and I enjoyed swimming upstream in the still pool and then letting the current push us back to the shore where we started.

Of course, the dangers of wild swimming are well-documented, and I’m no expert, so this isn’t an advert for it. Probably it is best enjoyed with others who know the area and have appropriate experience and safety equipment.

There is something about the unknown and living nature of the water which makes it more exhilarating than a swimming pool. The power of the river to take you places where you did not intend to go, the hidden depths as you swim across the unknown, and the occasional rocks which can be both a hazard and a place to stop to reflect, all make the river a mysterious but exciting place.

Prayer is often compared to a river. When we pray we join in the constant stream of God’s people praying throughout the ages; generations of people focusing their lives upon God, bringing their needs and their complaints, their praise and their thanks. Whether we have the words or not, when we pray we are part of this current.

But like wild swimming, the stream of prayer isn’t tame, or safe, or boring. We often think of prayer like doing lengths in the swimming pool to earn God’s favour but not really getting anywhere. But it is much more like a river. In prayer we are taken to places we did not intend to go – perhaps challenged to love more, forgive, or give of ourselves for others. In prayer we discover hidden depths as we reflect on God, quietly allowing God to show us more of himself. In prayer we come across potentially hazardous rocks which bring us up short, make us stop and reflect, and yet as we pray, they allow us to appreciate more of God’s movement in our world.

Perhaps prayer is dangerous therefore. Maybe we need safety equipment and an experienced guide. Perhaps that is one of the roles of the Church.

But for all of us, prayer is at its most refreshing when, like my daughter and I when swimming, we push out into the depths and let its current take us. In prayer like this, we let God wash us up on a shore of his choosing and we look forward to our next journey with him before we’ve even dried off from the last.