Thank you Ben for reminding me of this beautiful song.  Although I'm not quite sure it'd fit at the point in our service we are looking to fill, it is so lovely I've typed it up for others to enjoy...

How could it be

This baby in my arms

Sleeping now so peacefully

The Son of God the angel said,

How could it be?

Lord, I know he's not my son

Not of my flesh, not of my bones

Still father let this baby be

The son of my love.

Father show we where I fit into

This plan of yours

How can a man be father to the Son of God?

Lord for all my life I've been a simple carpenter

How can I raise a king?

How can I raise a king?

He looks so small

His face and hands so fair

And when he cries the sun seems to disappear

But when he laughs

It shines again

How could it be?

Father show we where I fit into

This plan of yours

How can a man be father to the Son of God?

Lord for all my life I've been a simple carpenter

How can I raise a king?

How can I raise a king?

How could it be

This baby in my arms

Sleeping now so peacefully

The Son of God the angel said

How could it be?

(c) Michael Card 1982

Some of my minister friends are facing very tough times in their churches right now, for all sorts of reasons.

Some of my minister friends are supporting people facing very tough times right now.

Some of my friends are facing tough times in the absence of ministers right now.

Some of them read this, they know who they are.

For you, for them, the words of Isaiah and John, in the Message paraphrase...

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. For those who lived in a land of deep shadows - light! sunbursts of light! (Isaiah 9:2)

The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness; the darkness couldn't put it out. (John 1:5)

May the Light remain visible in your darkest moments, and hope lead you onwards.

This morning the power went off at church, at least most of it did.  And of course Toddlers were in, so a cold church is not a good idea.  Amazingly the power in the kitchen survived so they could get hot drinks (well their mums/carers could) and they were happy to carry on, sitting in their coats while the children raced round having fun.

Meanwhile I checked every trip switch, every circuit board, every breaker... phoned people to find where the extra ones might be hidden and now know far more about the church power supplies than I ever wished to know!

Having checked everything at least twice, I ventured over the road to the coffee shop to discover they had the same scenario - but just as I reached the counter, zap the power came back on... You either got the power or you don't!  For that moment I did.

Been an interesting week... the heating (now sorted) the 'external hazard' of snow load in the roof (still monitoring; I'll write the book one day) and now the 'loss of grid'.  Keeps me entertained, holds all my past and present together in a way only God can do, and just shows those who said to me either 'maybe God's calling you to be a missionary engineer' or 'fancy that, God usually calls people from caring professions not industry' that actually God does know what the church (or those churches I get called to) needs... a girlie rev who's not phased by the realities of Victorian barns.

Planning for our Carol Service is well in hand and it's going to be great.  One tricky bit is my desire that we find a poem that gives a Joseph perspective on the annunciation (and beyond) - perhaps based on the dream he had in which he was told not to divorce Mary.  A trawl of my poem books and the web has turned up nothing suitable, and the general response from the networks into which my co-planner has links is 'hmm, that's an interesting idea' (or words to that effect).

I'm not asking people to write something for us, I am just wondering it anyone knows of anything already published that we could use?  We don't want twee and we don't want too heavy... so it's a simple task...

If you can help please leave a comment.

Thank you.

As I sit at my computer, the red sandstone of the tenement opposite glows a warm hue in the afternoon sun, and the chimney pots stand stark agasint a clear blue winter sky - it is a beautiful day here in Glasgow.

Despite the best efforts of the snow, the bus companies and coucil gritting department we filled our cosy back room with people (about 16 I think, I didn't count) for our first lunch time reflection for Advent.  It was a lovely space amidst all the busyness of the day, time to slow down and focus beyond ourselves.

The Promise of Advent is some material linked to the Millennium Development Goals, using some stunning art work by the artist He Qi.  I have to admit that I altered the resource material a bit to fit the flow of what we wanted, but it seemed to work, and prompted some very moving and wide-ranging prayer for the most vulnerable people, some people knew personally, others we know of as statistics.

We shared a lovely lunch and lots of good conversations before people braved the cold to go about the rest of their daily business, and we collected a useful sum for Christian Aid.

The promise of our Advent is good, as, together, we journey towards Christmas.