When I finally dragged myself from my post-Christmas slumbers, I opened the gifts I'd been given (I now realise that one is missing from the photo but I'll include it).  Each is, in it's unique way, beyond price, and utterly perfect.

The jigsaw - something not available in the shops, a photo of my sister's children having fun together.  I will enjoy a quiet afternoon or evening making it, and thinking about my family, both those in the picture and those elsewhere.

A tray cloth (not in the photo) from a very, very elderly lady who has lived well and loved much.  Always trying to make more of a lady of me, I suspect, as previous gifts have included lacy edged cloths and beaded coasters. When I use it, I will remember her, and other older women (and men) who, in my years in ministry, have blessed me with their love, prayers and even their challenges!!

Two boxes of Turkish Delight, one from my sister, one from a dear friend and chemo-buddy who faces endless challenges with resilience, humour and grace.  Turkish Delight is probably the Marmite of sweets, and I love it.  These two boxes will last me for absolutely ages, - will remind me of the importance of family and friends and that silver linings may be found, even in adversity.

An M&S gift card from my Mum.  Last year I did my Mum's Christmas shopping; this year I ensured funds were there for someone at the care home to do it with/for her. At a future date, I will visit one of the larger stores, treat myself, and think of my Mum whose love and selflessness have so shaped my life.

An Oxfam Gift of education for a girl - perfect! A gift from special friends whose support and encouragement (as well as forbearance at times) I greatly appreciate.  The gift of giving is so important, and I could not be happier with their choice.  My parents' valuing of education, often sacrificial, enabled me to flourish - to be associated with offering this gift to another girl is absolutely brilliant.

I love all my gifts, and more I love the givers.  I am truly blessed to need nothing, and to want nothing.  Maybe this all sounds a little bit 'Pollyanna' but it's true.  When in 2010 I feared I might be facing my final Christmas, something inside me changed for good, and for the good - life is the greatest gift at Christmas.  Life full of love, enriched by laughter, underpinned by hope... these cannot be bought, are beyond price; these really are mine again this year.

Origami boats, flowers, birds and hearts, all crafted from golden napkins by two Japanese girls who came to yesterday's Christmas Day lunch, and shared them with children from Mongolia and Iran.  This sums up and symbolises what an amazing day we shared.

When I prepared for the service, I had guessed that 50 of everything would be plenty... oh me of little faith, over a hundred people, from four local churches supplemented by oodles of visitors, came together to celebrate Christmas surrounded by beautiful stained glass in splendid architecture. We successfully negotiated our different traditions and expectations and had a lovely warm, friendly time together.

Moving to the hall, about forty or so folk (I didn't count so I don't know exactly how many) enjoyed a three course lunch, sang carols, renewed old friendships and made new ones.  Students, refugees, people who would otherwise be alone, retired academics, missionaries and people with vulnerabilities gathered together in a room where the air rang with laughter, and the love was palpable.  This is Christmas.  This is a foretaste of heaven.

After that, in true Vicar of Dibley fashion, I was welcomed into a home for a second Christmas Dinner.  A small gathering who shared conversation and quizzes (and another three courses dinner!) in a convivial and relaxed atmosphere.

Arriving home at about 10:30, I had no energy left to unwrap parcels, so went to bed, tired and happy, knowing that I had already had the best gift I could dream of.

Advance Posted - I have a very full day!

Wishing all my loyal readers a very joyful, love-filled Christmas, and a New Year full of hope, happiness and health.

May God bless us all with Good News this day, and always...

In 2004, circumstances forced a rapid re-planning of Christmas Eve Communion in a borrowed 'Lady Chapel' of an Anglican parish church.  From this emerged a very precious tradition of gathering in someone's home for a very simple communion service, followed by light refreshments.

Moving north, there were other traditions, and so last year was the first time I offered this simple service.  A goodly number of folk braved a wet, dark night to come to my home, and I think a good time was had by all.

I have just set up my kitchen for this evening's candle light Christmas Eve Communion.  As Advent reaches its conclusion, as the destination is in sight, there's not much I like better than to sit quietly in subdued lighting, with people I love, and remember what it's all about.

Advent has been great, lots of fun, every week a pack out... but this is my time, for me, small, intimate, focused in a different way.  And, of course, I want it to bless others, as it blesses me.

I wanted to end Advent with an image of 'a host of angels' or 'a multitude of angels.'  This one appeared when I searched for the latter.  I like the swirling mass of angels, many, maybe most, barely distinguishable.  I like the constrast of the figures at the foot of the image.

This morning we had yet another pack out service for our 'Lessons and Carols' with some amazing singing, some old, well-loved readings, and a lot of joy.

This evening, I will welcome whoever turns up at my home for a simple communion service, not at midnight (I'll be tucked up long before then!) but early evening.  With recorded music, candles and carefully chosen words, we will listen, one more time, for the voice of the angels bringign us Good News.

God who has journeyed with us to the shortest day, and beyond

Bless us, we pray, with renewed wonder at the mystery of Christmas

Amen.