Happy New Year, last year was a bit of a roller coaster ride for me. A new church and being Pastor, serious work on our home.
But God blesses us in everything we do if we through faith put our trust in him, and I can tell you there have been times when he has carried me. I am looking forward to the challenges of this New Year, finding a new family and youth worker, a discipleship course with the churches together, working with you all in mission in Lapford, through Messy Church and starting a Vintage Messy Church.
On Christmas Eve I read this poem, and thought that I would share it again. Kathryn asked me when you called me who my favourite character in the Bible was, and it is Mary. I spoke on Christmas Eve and Day about her, the lesson I think we all should take from her is that she said yes, trusted and obeyed even though she had no idea where God would take her.
The Golden Thread
The baby held in his tiny fist a golden strand of brittle hay, on which the lamplight gleamed.
The mother bent over the wooden trough and smiled at the new-born. The baby loosed the corn from his fist, took her finger, and gazed into her eyes.
Later, in a home the family would flee, the toddler played on the wooden floor with a golden box, enjoying the rattle of coins within, a gift from a stranger, along with incense and anointing oil, whose presence made his mother’s heart run cold.
Day by day, the boy grew up, with only occasional flashes of golden light to illuminate the normality of an ordinary life.
And then the carpenter’s son, beside the Jordon, as golden water splashes up, reflecting sunlight looked into the face of his cousin; they smiled and knew everything had changed.
In the wilderness, he shared with the bees a sticky golden treasury of honey, and from the golden temple roof, the golden crust of new-baked bread, and gold crown of the world’s kingdoms, he scorned temptation.
The desert light brought clarity to a story threaded through history and prophecy, leading to a road which only leads to pain.
From fast to feast, the lamplight of the Upper Room shone to illuminate another loaf of bread and cup of golden wine, shared by friends and betrayer who held in his pocket a fistful of coins.
Another dawn will bring the cross, a day within which colour leached away to grey until the moment when son and mother met in unbearable agony. No gold, no thread, a great unravelling.
A fracture in eternity at the moment of incarnation shines golden through the wounds of torture, cross and grave, revealed in resurrection light of day, recognised in a flowered garden.
From scars, shine out the light of a new day. God has woven into the weft of history, the golden thread appearing in our past and on into our futures.
A golden hope, a bright sadness is woven through your life. Recognise for yourself the illuminated path, the golden strands of God, that weave you into the very heartbeat of Jesus.