There have been some wobbles here recently—the light from our small corner which I hold for the time being. Sisters have been away on retreat, holiday and family visits; out for a variety of appointments and community business, feeling the heat, committed to sustaining our lived prayer, worship and hospitality. We know that all we do is ‘but a drop in a bucket’ (Isaiah 40:15), and are so thankful for those whose light is bright and steady. We have mostly remembered to join chaplaincies across Europe and beyond in offering prayer at the end of Vespers for Ukraine and Russia, and for the other conflicts that press in on us, being held in faith and love. What we hear from many of those in the depths of the darkest places is that while they desperately need food and water, shelter, care and safety, what they most long for is hope. How can we give hope? I take a short walk in the morning and evening to open and then lock a gate, and water some plants outside chapel. One day I caught a glimpse of a bramble finding its way through our new fence: it had me turning aside in hope: in a few days it had grown steadily. Poetically and without really looking, I thought “towards the rising sun”. Today I looked more carefully and saw that true to its bramble nature it was seeking to take root. May hope find a way into every heavy heart.
Dear God, your Son had no place to call his own; spread your mercy over your children far from home, from safety, from peace. The coming kingdom, may it be soon. Amen.
