· stillpoint ·

  I passed a house yesterday with a Christmas tree in a window and a sign that said ‘Wave to our Gran’.   In that moment the mixed realities of our time coalesced in all their bitter-sweetness, fragility and beauty.   An elderly lady living alone these long nine months yet celebrating Christmas, with loving grandchildren in the background   who may or may not see her over the festive period.    This final Sunday of Advent we are called to wait in love and like many families around the country perhaps you too are in the discussion about whether to take the risk and get together as different generations.   What is the loving thing to do when we have been waiting to get together for so long?   Waiting in love will look differently for each of us as we discern what is right for our family and particularly for our elderly more vulnerable members.     After initial plans for my parents to spend Christmas with one of my brothers they will now be staying at home in the hope that they will be

  Peace descends on us, sometimes slowly;                                                                                                     an awareness, a knowing of the unknown.                                                                                                      It comes in a deep breath, Light streaming on to an altar bent knees  solitude in a shared space placing our prayers with the silent prayers of the generations that have gone before Pebbles ticking one against another as the water recedes the rhythm of the tide the bird lifting on the breeze, calling white into the light and light as a feather Peace touches that place deep inside us that is God                                                                                   And it passes all understanding. (Petra Shakeshaft) It is worth reading the poem again, this time more slowly, taking time to sit with a phrase, a word, an image that resonates with you.   It is an invitation to encount

  The phone rang in the red phone box on Wood St, High Barnet, N. London.   I was nervous as I waited for it to be picked up.   I was in Adelaide, South Australia.   It was early October 1989 and I had just arrived there as part of a post university gap year after a few months working on the west coast of the U.S.   My girlfriend, Ina, and I had arranged to meet for Christmas in Kathmandu.   I was apprehensive and my breath was a little short as she picked up the receiver.   I explained that I realised I needed more time in Australia, and could we wait till I returned to the UK in April.    It was complicated by the fact that Ina had already worked in Nepal and was keen to get back again and show me the places that meant a lot to her.    In the early summer when we said goodbye to each other we just could not think about not seeing each other for a whole 9 months, so meeting up in Nepal seemed a great plan.   The wait just seemed too long.    Certainly if you had told me back in