This morning we completed our short series of services loosely linked to the theme of 'shame and...'  Its been challenging, demanding and important in roughly equal measure.  I know, because they have told me, that for some people the things that have been shared have been helpful, encouraging, freeing, and that more than makes it all worthwhile.

We ended the reflection time by affirming and encouraging ourselves and each other with a simple mantra, from Psalm 139:14...

I am fearfully and wonderfully made...

To those around us: you are fearfully and wonderfully made

Together: we are fearfully and wonderfully made

As we thought of everyone else we know or encounter: they are fearfully and wonderfully made.

I am tired, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, but it's a good kind of tired, the sort that arises from a sense of achievement, of having taken on a challenge and seen it through.  So, yes, I am fearfully and wonderfully made - and I done good!

Today's reflection moved away from Brendan to focus on a couple of illuminated manuscripts though, annoyingly, they were not in the book, rather there was a suggestion to look for them online! So I pinched this image of part of the Chi Rho at the start of the Lindisfarne gospels, which is beautiful, intricate and intriguing.  Hopefully, having the image helps to make more sense of the prayer for today:

Cosmic Christ, as I prepare to enter the story of your incarntion, may I know the sense of your presence with me.  As the beauty and intricate details on the the Chi Rho pages flow, may I know a sense of your Spirit flowing within me.  Draw me into the beauty and detail of creation.  May I see as you see.  May I feel as you feel.  May I love as you love.  Amen.

By the time I got out for my walk today it was already dark.  The moon was beautiful and bright in the clear sky - but no way could I get a decent photo on a phone camera! So here's a contrast - a retail park starkly illuminated and a decidedly wonky moon in the sky above.

As I walked I made several attempts at photographing illuminated signs, and every time they were blurred.  The least bad was one of some flashing star-shaped decorations...

If I were to go with a word for today, it'd probably have to be 'blurred' or 'artificial' but actually, I find myself preferring a link to the Bible study we shared this afternoon as the injunction to 'shine like stars'.  In the large photo, stars must be present but are invisible due to the brightness of the artificial lighting at ground level. In the small photo the stars are fake.  During the Bible study we chatted about all sorts of things, and about the balance of passive (shining) and active (speaking) witness to our faith, and of the need to 'walk the walk' as well as 'talk the talk'. I also found words from a Christmas carol (I know, it's ages off yet) coming into my head: 'in the dark street shineth the everlasting light...' In the dark of a November evening, looking up, above the garish and fake, shines the moon that has been there, effectively, forever, a reminder that hope will lead to the source of all light, even the Christ of God. 

There is a delightful irony, a kind of a 'hmm' moment that I am writing this in the evening, having worked pretty much flat out since 7 a.m., and that the reflection for the day is about starting the day with prayer!  Nothing to add to that really... I'll just type up the prayer and go out for my (much awaited!) walk. 

Holy God, as I step into all that I have to do today, and over the days which [lie] ahead, remind me that you are there with me, and that you desire to be a part of my everyday life.  May I begin all things by focusing on you, to set the ground; may I continue through all things focused on you ensuring you are at the centre of all I do; and may I end each task focused on you, knowing that I have completed it with you.  Amen.

A ghostly figure (or so it seems) runs around the perimeter of Bingham's Pond in Glasgow.  Today's photos seem to be connected by the words 'fleeting' or, if you want to be posh, 'ephemeral.'

A squirrel forrages for food at dusk

A carved pumpkin, discarded presumably a couple of weeks ago

A pampas plant looking its very best

Fleeting ephemera, moments passing almost too swiftly to register them, ideas always just beyond reach...

Advent truths, always just out of reach, never quite in focus, not quite understood...

Advent as a hopeful journey, glimpsing what cannot be grasped.