Hope sang on Christmas eve when I trotted down the road from tesco.

My hope was in Jesus that evening. It was contemplating the wonder of his birth and sacrificial love.

That hope sang so much louder than the whirring thoughts and transient feelings always so present in my mind and heart. Hopes for long awaited for things seem to have found their peaceful place , caught up in a much bigger story of welcome, redemption and living power.

I had gradually begun to trust that the path we were on, was the path meant. What relief, what joy.

Thanksgiving swelled in my heart as I looked at the nativity scene next to the Priory Church.

Oh what a saviour. Oh what love. Oh what a constant companion.

We enjoyed recently Erick's sermon on joy which reminded us of Philipians 4 - The Lord is near. Therefore we need not be anxious about anything.

On the 23rd we loved spending time with Mary Clare who reminded us to give thanks in all circumstances, a lesson Corrie Ten Boom and her sister had learnt remarkably in the concentration camp.

The joy I know I think has so much to know with the suffering I have known in my life. It taught me to appreciate all what I have so much more than I might have. That what was long awaited for feels more precious, I think.

A longing is emerging more in me. A longing to see captives truly set free. That many more might "know" the Lord in a way that brings tremendous hope this year.

How can I communicate that Lord? Teach me, grow me, change me.