January 1

    It is the start of a new year and we are wishing each other a happy new year. Personally I prefer to wish people to have a happy whole year, the full 365 days, not just the teasing first few days.

     The reading, perhaps, highlights the need for a whole years blessing. Simeon’s words to Mary and Joseph were a part of a blessing for the child and were uttered with love, praise and adoration. They were also honest, a lovely life of roses and wealth was not on the menu. Mum and Dad would have sorrows to come even if their child was to be a blessing to the world.

     We can’t expect that this life will be a bed of roses. Heaven knows what is around the corner for us all. There will be joy, if we choose to see it and express it. There may be sorrow.

     The passage above must be taken in context. The paragraph above is not designed for Mary and Joseph. The paragraph is for us. Our dedication, or re-dedication, will result in personal change. As the reading puts it, “self must be dethroned”.

      The Christian life offers hope and a future, but is undertaken at a cost that we need to recognise. We are to count that cost, we are not forced to make the decision, we can choose to walk the walk – or not.

     The cost is this, we choose not to do our own will but rather decide to follow God’s will. That takes a daily commitment to continue living and working but now to take God’s needs into first consideration.

     Are we alone when we make this dedication? The following was sent to me by Sheilla Wilkinson, the Elder at the Netherfield Church. Have a read and realise that along with your decision to commit your life to God comes the blessing of heavenly support.

     Sheilla writes, “Your blog today brought back to mind a time back in the early 70's.  Blood tests had shown that I had a very low white cell count and was subsequently admitted into a hospital in Sheffield for further tests.  A bone marrow aspiration showed the count had dropped to 800 and was still going down.  Further investigations into leukaemia were carried out.  I overheard the doctors discussing my prognosis - if the counts continued to drop at the same speed I would maybe see Easter - it was then December.

     I was allowed home to spend Christmas with my family but was readmitted urgently when my health rapidly deteriorated.  Isolated in a side room to avoid infection, I went through every jigsaw they could find in the hospital, made my own bed each day and tidied up my room on good days to keep focused.  Evenings were spent reading and praying into the early hours of the morning.  I cared only for the effect all of this would have on my already elderly parents.  I knew they would soon need care, and my sister and brothers were all married, with homes and families to care for. 

     Feeling low one day, I was cleaning the sink in my room when a nurse appeared in the doorway behind the HUGEST vase of daffodils I have ever seen.  She said, "These are for you."  When I asked who they were from, the nurse said an old man, dressed in scruffy gardening clothes had turned up at the unit door, barely visible behind arms full of sunshine, and said he had grown the daffodils in his garden and had brought them for someone who needed them.

     The amazing thing is, the ward I was on was way at the back of the hospital buildings, and even experienced hospital staff found it hard to find.  To reach it, it was necessary to pass all but one of the other hospital wings and wards.  This old man went straight to it. 

     Was he an angel?  Did he know that I took one look at those daffodils and knew that God had sent me an answer to my prayers? It was as clear and definite as hearing Him speak - all would be well.

     My blood count began to rise, and a few weeks later I was in remission and discharged.  I asked the staff if they would pass on a 'thank you' note for me to the old man, but no-one knew him - they'd never seen him before, and they never saw him again! 

     We never know when we will meet angels unawares!”