Howard Jones and his wife Iona have recently begun an Urban Expression in an area of Stoke on Trent. Here Howard shares their story so far. OK brothers and sisters, confession time. My name's Howard and I had a church planting fantasy. I didn't think I did, but ... I did. Here's how the fantasy went... After a swift, smooth move, we land in our new urban area. After just a couple of weeks, bang - the miracles start flowing. Word gets round and the unbelievers start beating a path to our door. In a couple of months we have two or three amazing, imaginative and original urban projects, small but perfectly formed, and all up and running. In about a year, revival has broken out. Ah happy dreams ...

OK so everyone I have spoken to about the Urban Expression thing has said in no uncertain terms that it's nothing like that! And honestly, even if they hadn't, I probably would've worked it out for myself. But myths have a strange and subtle way of inhabiting our subconscious, even while our conscious minds are saying all the right things.

So anyway the reality is far more mundane. After an utterly frustrating August waiting for our buyers' lawyers to get their act together we eventually moved from Birmingham to Cobridge, an area of Stoke on Trent nestling between Burslem and Hanley.

We've moved into a Victorian terrace, which is a real gift from God, but has also generated its own self-expanding ‘to do' list. After three weeks I still find myself, paintbrush in hand, putting up shelves, arranging to see tradesmen and, well, buying stuff! But that's where we're at right now and the Lord keeps assuring us, it's OK.

We've met our neighbours and been to a gig their son was playing in a club in the city. We've been walking round the area and had lunch in the Caribbean juice bar down the road. We've worshipped with the local churches and started meeting some of the local church leaders. We're finding our way around the city, and tonight we're having our Sudanese neighbours round for a meal as it was Eid yesterday and the power in their house had gone down and they're stuck in a borrowed one bedroom flat.

Not quite how I pictured it, but it feels good, and deep down there's God's peace and joy about living here, and excitement about what he has planned for us. Now if I could just find a way to silence the little voice in my head that's says: ‘What would Rick Warren have achieved by now?' I'd be laughing.