On Sunday we began a month-long series of services on the theme of hope.  Three friends shared thoughts on hope, we sang hymns/songs that expressed a variety of writers' understandings of hope, we broke bread and we prayed.  As I led intercessions, I found myself using the phrase 'may their hope be active, may their hope be strong', echoing the thoughts others (and indeed I) had shared.

Yesterday I enjoyed a long walk (around nine miles) about half of which followed the River Clyde into the city centre.  The sky was blue, the sun was bright (dazzling if you turned south-east).  The path itself varied... in places it was completely clear and dry; in places it had sparkly white frost; in places it was sheet ice.  But whatever the underfoot conditions, it led me to the city centre.  And I think that's a bit like hope.  Sometimes it is easy, sometimes it is challenging but fun, sometimes it is hard work and even risky (the mother of fools, as the Lithuanian proverb would express it), but it keeps on - it is active; it is strong.

In the afternoon, I settled down with a book, a cup of tea, and an iced bun.  The news alert on my smartphone disrupted my reverie, as I heard and read that Scotland (and within a few hours the entire UK) is back in lock down.  I absolutely think this is the right call, and is, ultimately, a hopeful - or hope-filled - call that will help control this deadly virus.  It needs action.  It needs strength.  It isn't fun, it isn't what we want, but it is what will lead us on the journey to a brighter future.

I chose this photo to share not just because I loved the sparkly frost on the path, but because it shows the destination as well as the route towards it .  Of course we need to look down and check our footing (even doing so, on a couple of previous days' walks I ended up flat on the pavement!) but we also need to look up and look around us... savour the beauty of the moment in which we find ourselves, and catch a fresh glimpse of where we are going.

Locking down again is hard, disappointing, frustrating - but it's just another stage on the journey to the future.  As we journey onwards, may our hope be active, may our hope be strong.

So here we are at the end of 2020, a year that will one day be the subject of history lessons even in primary schools.

What follows is a bit of a ramble rather than a tidy reflection (a very long time ago, the subtitle of this blog was 'ramblings, reflections and rubbish', nothing much changes!)

It has been a year when we all learned new words and new skills - who, a year ago had a clue what 'Zoom Church' might mean, let alone live-streaming prayers, virtual voting or a hundred and one other bizarre online things that we have all learned to do.

It has been a complicated year, and for many a bewildering one.  There has been much sadness, far too many deaths, and so many  rule changes that even highly intelligent people are confused.

It has been a year of unexpected blessings, of people able to join us for online church who couldn't get to physical church, of people discovering that they could read/pray online when it was too scary in person (and people discovering it was OK to step back after long years of faithful service).

It has been a year of long walks and ludicrous numbers of photographs (I have taken around 10 thousand apparently!). A year of intentionality, of looking closely, of smelling flowers, listening to birdsong, savouring the early morning darkness.  A year of going no further than I can walk (at least from mid-March, and with the notable exception of two permitted trips for wedding services) yet walking further than ever before.

It has been a year of long hours and long weeks, of phone calls and emails, of letters and cards, of unexpected kindnesses and surprise gifts.

It has been a year in which the word 'hope' has recurred over and over and over again.  Sometimes a whisper, sometimes a shout. 

It has been a strange year but, for me, it hasn't been a bad year.  As it draws to its close, as I return to work after a short break, and as I start to prepare for the next year, I look back on a year in which there was much joy, much goodness, much love, and for that I am extremely grateful.

So, as the darkness of night deepens (it fell a while ago!) and as 2020 ebbs away, I have much to be thankful for, and much to ponder.

This morning I renewed my subscription to this blog platform for another year, so, however erratic or sporadic, there will still be stuff here for a while yet.

Thank you to those who have faithfully checked by, read this stuff and encouraged me to keep on blogging.

Oh, the photo? It's one I took a couple of days ago, when it was cold and  frosty and gloriously sunny.  There is beauty everywhere, and this year I have come to value it more than ever.

So, the final items have been taken from the Bags of Blessing, the last envelope has been opened, and the day has arrived.

Thank you everyone who shared our journey this year - may you encounter the wonder and discover the blessings of this special season.

After today, I am annual leave for a few days, so no blogging in prospect - but I will be back to see in the New Year!

It's tricky doing a Christingle virtually, so we took advantage of an idea from The Children's Society, to hold a 'Christingle with a Twist' - the twist being that we didn't make Christingles, but instead had a scavenger hunt to find something in our homes to represent...

• the world (something round or travel related were suggestions)
• love (something heart shaped or red)
• God's gifts (suggestions included fruit, toys or pets)
• Light (candles, torch or mobile phone were suggested)

There was much ingenuity, and not a little laughter, and I, for one, had fun.

Really grateful to those who joined us for their willingness to join in and make it work.