Today's reflection is on the presentation of Jesus in the Temple, and asks what (or if) we believe about a divine plan for our lives. Are we, like Simeon and Anna, patiently waiting for God to reveal something to us, to make sense of our lives, or something else?

I have to admit to being a bit ambivalent here.  Does God have a plan for my life?  In general terms, yes, I am sure that's so - a plan that I discover my identity, fulfill my potential, play my part in the in-breaking of the Kingdom.  But in terms of specifics, do this thing on that day, then no, I don't think so. I believe in free will, which means that God will allow me to make my own choices.  I also believe that God works with me in all things, sometimes having to find new ways to get me back on track when I wander off in a way that's not helpful or healthy.  Quite how that might work, I don't know how to explain.

So, anyway, here is the prayer for today from the book...

Great and loving God, thank you for the care you place on my life from the moment my existence began. Thank you for the care that you give me as my life unfolds day by day.  May I know your presence with me as I walk this path, and may I know your word spoken into my life by others to help me along this path.  Amen.

This morning I was up early to attend a service led by Christian Aid Scotland and broadcast by Radio 4. It was thoughtful and thought provoking. On the way I snapped a few photos. Some, like this one, have street lights masquerading as the moon.

Advent starts in the dark, when the streets are quiet, and the signs of hope may be few.

If you have access to Radio 4 on iPlayer or the BBC sounds app or some such, do listen to the service, you will be glad you did.

A confession - I am not so sure about reading the 'Christmas story' more than a month before the event.  But that's where the book takes us and so today we meet the shepherds and angels on the hills, and a parallel with St Cuthbert who had a similar vision, which prompted him to begin a monastic life.

Shepherds as outsiders, a role that meant they were always on the edge, so that others might be at the very heart of Temple worship - afterall someone had to ensure the supply of sacrificial sheep/lambs.  A wise minister I knew once referred to ministers as 'intentiontal outsiders', as those who are voluntarily on the edge of the commnuity of which they may seem to be at the heart.

Today is the feast of Christ the King, the one Sunday I almost always take off (I preached it every year as a student and have done guest preaches on it a few times).  It is my 'intentional apartness' before the liturgical Advent season begins.  I wonder if, today, as I sit on my metaphorcial hillside (which includes attending a couple of services) I may encounter, unexpectedly, something of the glory of God.

The prayer we are offered for today:

Holy, good Shepherd, as you watch over your flock, of which I am a part, I trust that you know what is best for me, and I commit to getting to know your voice better and following you wherever you lead me.  Amen.

So, the only walks today were to the supermarket and to the recycling station... a day to rest and relax before Advent begins in earnest.  Sasha 'reading' a book... sleep, kitties and novels, a good way to spend a day.

If Advent gives us space simply to 'be' then that has to be a good thing... as illustrated by Sophie below!

Today it's birth stories - or their lack - that we are invited to reflect upon.

Two out of the four gospels have infancy narratives; one, Luke, actually explicitly refers to the birth... Matthew is more oblique reference about Joseph not having sexual relations with her until after the birth. And in Luke, it is 'half a verse': 'she gave birth to her firstborn, a son...' Just eight words in the NIV; six in the Greek NT I checked.

We all know how odd this story is, a deity born in obscurity, and seemingly so un-pass-remarkable that only Matthew (paralleling the story of Moses) and Luke (appealing to people of other faith backgrounds) even mention it.

I wonder how the Christ is born, or re-born in obscurity in the hearts and minds of people like us today?  I wonder what story we would choose to tell if we wrote our own gospel?

Today's prayer from the book:

God incarnate, as you took on human form and entered the world, you did so in a quiet and unassuming way.  The record of this actual moment is just one half of a Bible verse.  help me not to seek the glory of recognition for the things I do for you, for the exmaples of the works of light I embody.  May all glory be to God, the Creator of all. Amen