I was sorely tempted to title this post 'Another Election Day' or even 'Yet Another Election Day', echoing some of the voter-fatigue I encounter in conversation with others, but in the end decided against it, reckoning it was better to express that within the text rather than the title!

It was pitch dark when I went to vote - not something I have often experienced, even though I have almost always been an early voter.  A hi-viz clad person stood at the door of the school to ensure everyone got in and out, but it was way too soon for any of the party people to be present with rosettes, flyers and clipboards - for that I am grateful!

The last time I recall going out early in the dark to vote was more than 30 years ago, when I lived in Derby, and I called into the polling station en route to work, waiting for the doors to open at 7 a.m.!  It was a little later than that today, but still done and dusted by 8 a.m.

A steady stream of people were voting, though no queues as such (the person before me had just got their ballot paper as I arrived) and it was all incredibly calm.

Voting is a privilege - not a right - granted to those who exceed a certain, somewhat arbitrary, age and are not otherwise disqualified.  A privilege, not a right, and one for which people died.  For that reason, if no other, it is essential to particpate.

Voting is a responsibility - a choice entrusted to people (defined as above) to select from among several alternatives, who will be their voice in the relevant governing authority.

With the FPTP system, the reality is that often many, possibly most, voters don't get who they chose (lots, maybe most, MPs are elected on well under 50% of a vote).  This doesn't mean votes don't matter and don't count - though it's understandable why people might feel that way.

So my ubiquitous rant - get out and vote.  Vote carefully and prayerfully.  Vote not for 'I' but for 'us' (and think carefully what 'us' means to you!).  As ever, I am not telling how I voted, and won't tell anyone else how they should vote. But at least tomorrow I can wake up knowing that I did what I could to speak for values that matter to me.

The photo is a view form my bedroom window, with light breaking on the horizon... whatever happens today the sun will rise again tomorrow, and eternal attributes of love, hope, faith, joy and peace will continue to permeate even the deepest darkness. 

Bit of a ramble.

Today really is the end of an era as the very last Virgin trains complete their last journeys.  This was Glasgow Central at 13:15 when a friend from Warrington arrived on a quick day trip to visit an elderly relative.  As I stood there, and snapped a couple of quick photos, I felt surprisingly emotional.

I am not a fan of Richard Branson, but Virgin trains have carried me on many significant journeys, especially the 05:40 ex GLC, as I travelled to Northampton via Euston at least monthly for a few years. 

The jokes about the availability of porridge. The times I ran along Euston Road to make connections.  The wondering if the delay en route to Glasgow would mean missing the last train out to home.

The journeys to Northampton General Hospital, to clear Mum's flat, to visit her in the care home, to arrange her funeral, to conduct her funeral, to bury her ashes... a lot of hugely significant memories, and important thoughts  processed, a lot of tea drunk, a fair few cheese toasties... all on the distinctive red trains

And work trips, of course, on the 05:49 to Birmingham, a quick change and then a quick trot up Wealy Park Road to the BMS college for meetings, or at various times to Preston or Lancaster for meetings.

There have been holiday trips and catch-ups with friends.  There have been carefully planned trips and unplanned mercy dashes.

Of course the trains will still be there, and I will still use them in their new ownership, it just feels strangely significant that this franchise, which has existed for 22 years, is now ended.

Someone I know shared this on social media this morning - it's funny (and very loud, you may want to turn down the volume a bit).

Lots of British trains appear in this - and see if you can spot the cameo appearance from the most famous fictional 'really useful engine' ever.

Yesterday, we joined with churches across Scotland in singing the Advent hymn, 'When out of poverty is born' and, at the request of Chistian Aid Scotland, posting it to social media and other online platforms. The aim is to keep the very real issue of poverty in people's awareness.

We did a sound only recording, and added the above photo (yes we did have a dog!)

I've had problems uploading the audio to social media, so I've posted it here and will link this blog post (if you click on the 'podcast' button below it should play, albeit in a new window!

On Tuesday evening I was reminded of this wonderful poem, and spent my reflection/prayer time with it...

Advent Calendar

He will come like last leaf's fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to the bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud's folding.

He will come like frost.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.

He will come like dark.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.

He will come, will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like child.

© Rowan Williams