Today's poem was 'We grow accustomed to the Dark' by Emily Dickinson, which can be readily found online e.g. here

The image is a view along Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow, at about 6:30 a.m., from Charing Cross.

The prayer:

God who gives us the gifts of day and night,

Who blesses and inhabits both darkness and light,

As we pause, waiting for our vision to adjust,

Grant us the courage to take the first step,

However tentative it may be,

And then, to walk more boldly,

Almost straight, into life, with you

Amen

Today's gift was a small, plain wooden heart, and an invitation to write on a message to ourselves.

God loves us with a never-ending, ever-lasting love - so that's what I opted for.

In 'love' week we try to be kind and gentle with ourselves and each other - because we are all worth it.

It's funny (or maybe it isn't) how, as the years go past, dates that were hugely significant fade from memory, to be replaced by others.  Had social media not reminded me this morning that it's 17 years since I made my ordination vows, I would not have remembered.

Ministry is definitely something you should only enter if you are 100% convinced it's God's call because otherwise you wouldn't survive, let along thrive.

All these years down the line, it is still the case the the best moments are so much better than I could ever dare dream, and the worst moments so much more awful than my worst nightmares.  Fortunately, there are far more ups than downs, highs than lows, but it still a very weird role!

Today, I slid my 'ordination ring' onto my hand knowing that I will 'pay for it later' once my finger swells and the lymph struggles to get out again - but just for one day a year, that's OK.

Thank you to the congregations in Dibley and at the Gathering Place who took the risk of calling me and allowing me to serve you.

This morning we opened the second envelope from our boxes, and discovered a message about love.  This week, we are invited to enjoy some self-care as well as thinking a little bit about love.

In the service we listened carefully 'for tidings of comfort and joy' in words from the book of Isaiah.

This evening, I'll be leading a gentle service called 'A Quiet Christmas' aimed especially at people who may find this Christmas difficult.

This week's focus has been on hope and hopefulness.

Lights that shine in the darkness - whether candles or stars...

Rainbows of promise and chains of interconnectedness...

As week one of Advent draws to its close, hope is a precious gift to carry with us into the days ahead.