After using up all my creative thinking on the previous post, I resort to passing on anothers words. A new take on O Little Town of Bethlehem, one of my favourite Christmas carols. I don’t think I could ever sing these words, I know (and love) the real words too well. But they made me think.

O troubled town of Bethlehem
with conflict still you lie.
Above your deep but restless sleep
indifferent stars go by;
yet in your dark streets may you find
resilient, endless light:
for hopes and fears of all the years
were borne in you one night.

For Mary’s child was born, and cried
unnerving powers above
whilst God of Life who bears our strife
encouraged hope and love.
O morning stars, now sniper-fire
obscures such hopeful births;
but mothers sing of everything
their prayer still ‘peace on earth.’

How silently, how violently
your wondrous gift was given;
while God is grace for every race
your streets with fear are riven.
As Jesus came amongst the poor
(confronting powers-that-be)
through risen will and faith he still
invites us ’set them free.’

O daring child of Bethlehem
empower us all, we pray
to work for peace that wars may cease
and love be born today.
With all the nations angels
proclaiming we shall tell:
“Heal Bethlehem, join ‘us’ with ‘them’”
Amen, Immanuel!

Graham J Adams

Its funny how your own words can come back to haunt you, usually when you don’t want them to. Yesterday in church, the second Sunday in advent, I heard the readings I’d written for the advent candle ceremony being used for the first time.

“Last Sunday we lit the first advent candle, which represents the hope which we have in Jesus. We light it again, a single candle which brightens the darkness with its flame, and we remember this hope which stands in the face of despair.”

I wrote that, little knowing how much it would mean by the time I heard it read back to me.

Does hope stand in the face of despair? I’m trying at the moment to see, to hope, that it does. There is something in me which knows its there. I just can’t see where, or what, this hope is. Strange, we say the hope isn’t and can’t be overcome. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. I hope it won’t, I need to know and to see that light right now.

The sound of a voice crying out in the desert, “Prepare a way for the Lord!”. There is a voice in the wilderness, the sound of life in the emptiness, hope coming from nothing, where we cannot see it, do not expect it. Only heard by those who choose to listen for it. It tells us he is coming, he is with us.

“Grace comes to us hidden beneath its opposite” (Martin Luther). How true. We find the grace and love of God where we least expect it; light in the darkest night, love in the rejection of a pregnant woman and her family, peace in the shivering cold of winter. If we find these things in the very places and situations where they seem to be absent; if, like the wise men, we find God not where we expect him, coming in glory and majesty, but with the rejected, the poor, the suffering. Why should we be surprised that hope, too, can be found in the very depths of despair?

I wrote that then, and believed it. Lord help us to believe it, and to know it, now.

A concert I went to tonight at Swansea Grand, with two of my best girly mates. Lots of Christmas music, orchestra, choir, even some stuff in welsh, and audience participation (well, singing carols!). Hayley Westenra was fantastic, I’ve decided I want her voice. She sang this song, which I’d heard many years ago but forgotten about more recently. It sent shivers down my spine…

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Did you know
That your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
That your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you’ve delivered
Will soon deliver you

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Did you know
That your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know
That your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little boy
You’ve kissed the face of god

Mary, did you know?
The blind will see
The deaf will hear
And the dead will live again
The lame will leap
The dumb will speak
The praises of the lamb

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy is lord of all creation?
Did you know
That your baby boy will one day rules the nations?
Did you know
That your baby boy is heavens perfect lamb?
This sleeping child youre holding
Is the great I am

About a month ago Mike sent me these pictures he’d taken of some of the children he was working with in India. I thought it would be good to share them. The first is a young girl who Mike told me they’d found on the street with a broken arm, she’d been there for a few days without treatment, and they took her to a doctor. The little boy is Suresh, the same one in the picture alice posted, who Mike had become good friends with over the last few months. It seems fitting to be able to remember his work through his photography, which he had such a skill and a passion for.