Yesterday a very small group of us were in the church building taking out the last remaining bits and pieces (mostly to the dump), swtiching off all non-essential power supplies, checking the alarms, and, where needed, changing or adding locks.

One of the very last things to be lifted down, from a long abandoned corner, was this 'welcome' sign.  Alas it is damp and probably carries spores of mildew so we had to let it go, but the sentiments remain.

Welcome - or its absence - is a self-evident Advent theme.  We have created a whole myth of inhospitable inn-keepers, and invented a stable, from a tiny detail in Luke's birth narrative.  And in so-doing we have discovered, or expressed, an important truth about human nature, the suspicion of 'other', the challenge of 'one demand too many' and of course the Biblical/faith-based imperative to welcome the stranger.

I find myself pondering welcome in two directions/dimensions...

First, and probably more important, to whom can, should and will I extend a welcome?

Secondly, where, when and how do I recognise myself being welcomed by others... i.e. I am alert enough to recognise it when it happens?

Long train journeys are an opportunity for all sorts of things - from sleeping to gazing out of the windows, to reading, to working and, in this case, writing Christmas cards.

I send a lot of Christmas cards, and I mean a LOT.  Yesterday I spent around four hours writing cards and still I need to buy and write more.

Sharing this on social media produced some interesting responses... I am, it seems, inceasingly unusual to send cards at all, or at least to send them in any quantity.  The secret is, for all it's a HUGE undertaking, and that I have streamlined it in recent years so that cards are simply "the next one out of the box" and messages limited to about 20 words maximum, I love the opportunity it gives me to pause, however fleetingly, and remember times spent with those to whom they will be sent.

This Victorian invention, hence the mushy sentimentality I suppose, is one that is always part of my Advent.  Usually I like to hand out cards at church on Advent 3, this year it didn't happen, but Advent 4 is still a full week before Christmas, so I think I can get away with it.

Yesterday I ran out of cards (I have more ordered which should soon reach me) and found myself pondering how blessed I am to have so many people in my life to whom I want to send a quick greeting at least once a year.

I wonder what personal traditions are part of your Advent preparations?

Beware of practising your piety before people... or of posting pictures of your charitable giving!

By the wonders of advance posting, this is written on Saturday to appear on Monday.

This is my gift bag for Refuweegee... I bought a ladies' back-pack handbag thing and started to fill it with the requisite items... and soon it was overflowing.  So I bought a sponge bag into which I placed the toiletries. Then to keep it all together, I placed the two into a sturdy 'bag for life' except that said "Team GB" and was decked out in lions, so that wouldn't really do, and I popped the whole thing into a jolly Christmas gift bag!!

The shopping for the items I needed proved quite challenging...

What kind of book so you buy for someone for whom English might be their umpteenth language? I found a beautiful photographic book about Glasgow.

What might signify 'Scotland'? A teddy bear with a saltire tee-shirt and a mug depicting landmarks in Glasgow.

What sort of notebook would be a nice gift?  Which brand of shower gel? What foodstuffs would be enjoyed rather than confusing? And so on...

I spent almost seven hours trekking round shops today - at least three times as much as I would normally do - and in the end I filled my gift bag more or less to my satisfaction.

I had fun, and I hope the person (female age 14+) who receives it enjoys opening it and using its contents.

Buying gifts for a stranger.... I suppose that's a bit like the Magi who travel the weeks of Advent along the window cills of 'high' churches bearing exotic and seemignly inappropriate gifts for a child.  Suppose instead that Refuegypt had existed and drawn up a list, I wonder what might have featured on that!

Choosing and wrapping presents... very much part of Advent as it's lived.  And I will be travelling one of my 1000 mile-ish day trips when this goes live, taking the gifts I chose for my mother and hoping that she, too, will enjoy some surprises as well as some practical things.

Enjoy your own choosing and wrapping, whatever form it takes.

Advent 3 - Gaudete Sunday... or Steeleye Span Day for those of a certain age!

The day of pink candles, the 'day off' from the traditional fast, the day to rejoice...

A reminder that we all need a few treats, that abstension is OK and temperance good, so long as neither renders us miserable.

The old practice of counting blessings, and more contemporary ones of finding one thing every day for which to be grateful seem to relate to this gaudete moment, suggesting that it can be found in every day, even the very darkest, if only we take the time to recognise them.

This gaudete Sunday, I will be meeting a friend from Warrington who is in Glasgow whilst visiting relatives elsewhere in Scotland.  It's very rare we see each other, so it will be a special time of catching up and sharing.

With two full weeks to go to Christmas, this year we are given out 'rejoice' break with still a long way to go on our journey... but maybe that's no bad thing.

Many friends and acquaintances have had very challenging times of late, so my prayer has to be that gaudete will not have a hollow ring for them but, rather, will allow them, if only for a moment, to smile, laugh, enjoy and re-joice.

Apologies to anyone who might have been looking for this earlier - I've spent most of today trekking round shops looking for things to put in my Refuweegee gift bag tomorrow, and to wrap up for my Mum and take south on Monday.

After an early trip out to a big out of town centre, I ventured into the city centre which was, as the saying goes in these parts "hoaching"... busy, mobbed, whatever word you may like.  Walking along the streets, I found all sorts of people trying to attract my attention - giving out flyers for restaurants and shops, chuggers for oodles of charities, beggars, Big Issue vendors, street entertainers, charity tin shakers, side-stall holders, buskers and bands.

It was the buskers and bands that drew my attention.  Small boys of varying experience playing bagpips.  Small girls singing pop songs.  Music students with trombone trios, string quartets and vocal groups.  An amazing contemporary pipe and guitar group (similar to the Red Hot Chilli Pipers in style) and then, finally, the Sally Army band.

There may have been two Sally Army bands, not sure, this photo is of a smaller group who were playing carols in Sauchiehall Street. I later saw a bigger group in Buchanan Street.

Maybe I'm old fashioned, but hearing the Sally Army band is part of my preparations, part of what makes Advent special.  The pipers and balloon modellers and jugglers were fun.  The atmosphere was vibrant and joyful.  But it was the familiar tones of Victorian carols played by a brass band whose aim is to raise funds for the poorest of the poor that felt like Advent to me.

Lots of charities were being supported today, from hospices to animal shelters, medical research to mental health support groups.  All of them are important and valuable and I'm glad people were giving to them. perhaps that's one of the good things about Advent that transcends religious and cultural boundaries.

It's been a long day, but I have my gift ready to take to church tomorrow, and have done some other gift shopping too.  I wonder what the band members are doing now, and who will be blessed by the loose change offerings of today's busy shoppers...