Hopeful

Two newly weds, bustled, hustled by sellers, crowd into a court of magnificence.  The young man has cradled and smoothed the wings of a dove - a poor man's "thank you" sacrifice.  The young woman cradles her newborn, jostled in the reverence space. Youthful, grateful, hopeful. A healthy first born son!

Wonder, pride, awe - in a word heavy day full of sights, sounds, smells.

And pushing purposefully through the crowd, an aged man, wisdom wrinkled. Simeon asks permission to hold the new baby.  Long promised and hoped for. A promise and guarantee of completed purpose.  His thin worn skin against a new little one's freshness, baby fingers wrapped around his age twisted fingers.

What must he have thought?  I can't imagine the mix of hopeful longing that resulted in the promise of this looked for rescuer.  "A light for revelation to the gentiles, his own people's glory" Huge words.
Simeon's words strike too, a sword in the middle of his joy.

God's timing - impeccable as always.

So it's advent and the above is a small attempt to put into words a little bit of Christmassy reading.  The town is full of racing santas in lycra and woolly hats, red with cold and festive.  It's an annual santa race for charity they tell me.  Santas crowd out costa, I am tempted to cry "Bah humbug" as I wanted a pre church coffee in peace. And there's a massive queue.......