Five Festive Fridays - Angels

Welcome to week 3 of Five Festive Fridays, taking a look at a contemporary issue in relation to the traditional Advent/Christmas Themes.

This week it is the turn of the Angels.

I have grown up with a slight resentment of Angels. I had blonde hair and blue eyes: I was always (yes, always) an Angel in the Nativity. Even aged eleven or twelve, I had to dress in a big white sheet with tinsel on my head. Never - not ever, not even once - was I Mary. I wasn't a shepherd or even a sheep. I was an Angel.

I'd love to say it was a reflection of my angelic personality, but I'm afraid a few would disagree with that.

Yet they are an important part of the Christmas story. Gabriel appeared to Zachariah (who I mentioned last week) and to Mary, and then a whole throng of angels sang to the shepherds. Clearly they were arresting: a sight to behold (although I can categorically state that there is no mention of tinsel in the bible).

Angels are God's messengers, the Royal Mail of biblical times. Today's messengers don't seem to have the same accuracy or style. If the postman arrived at the front door, glowing like the Ready Brek ads from head to foot and singing ... well, to be honest, I'd slam the door shut and call the police. Or the medics. But you can't deny the flair and panache of such delivery.

The playground gossip is about delayed deliveries. Like my friends, I have had problems with a couple of deliveries from Amazon. Despite the website stating that my goods are 'with the local deliverer' and despite living in a part of the country that has largely escaped the awful weather, it appears they are unable to convey my parcels on time. My order was supposed to arrive last week.

Perhaps I've been lucky, but for me this is the first time that they haven't delivered within the timescale they've stated. Should I be panicking? Should I rush out and re-buy the presents? Given the forecast for more snow, ice and general winter disruption this weekend, should I just give up now?

Yet I have received an email where they ask me to 'kindly wait' and ask for 'my continued patience', and imply that it will definitely be with me by 20 December. Christmas is going to be a little bare if it doesn't! What I like about the biblical story is that the angel said, "Do not be afraid." Amazon are trying to tell me the same thing, but are couching it in soft language - and allowing themselves some get-out clauses, some extra space for error.

Despite the angels' appearance (sudden, brilliant, Godly) they were bringing good news - peace, joy, hope, babies.

There are so many good things in life that we are afraid of. Babies is a prime example: despite the joy of finding myself pregnant, I did wonder what on earth I'd let myself in for. I still wonder that, ten years on! A new house; a new job; a new relationship: all can be exceedingly good things, yet fill us with fear and trepidation. It is that endless 'what if...' question. What if I'm not good enough? What if he's on the rebound? What if there is dry rot throughout? What if nobody likes me?

Yet the angel said, "Do not be afraid."

If it is good news ... and I sincerely hope that it is good news for you this Christmas ... then enjoy it. Sing and celebrate with the angels.


Sing, choirs of angels,
Sing in exultation,
Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above:
'Glory to God
In the highest'.
From 'O Come, All Ye Faithful'; 18th Century hymn

Summer? Where did that go?

The husband has two weeks off.  We've moved house, can't afford a proper holiday so visit the grandparents.

My father graciously lets me borrow his car, firstly so we can go to a friend's wedding and then to drive around York.  We visit Beningborough Hall (in the rain) which my sister assures me we went to as children, but I'll be blowed if it is at all familiar to me.  We visit my Gran (avoiding rain: she's indoors) and somehow manage to catch her arm as Number2 child jumps down from her knee.  A gaping hole appears, blood rushing up, a large flap of skin on her forearm.  The lady at the home comes and slaps a plaster on it (no cleaning the wound, I note) but the most noticeable thing to me is just how thin a 95-year-old's skin really is.

We visit my oldest friend, in years known rather than age (and in the rain, of course), who's just had a baby and probably my second-oldest friend (we went to the park and saw hot air balloons: perhaps the only moment it didn't rain?).  We go to have a professional family portrait taken (studios suffering from water leakage following storm damage).  Husband criticises the whole event: I'm prepared to hold my tongue until I've seen the pictures.

Then on to the in-laws.  I cannot even begin to criticise them because they kept my children for a whole week whilst my husband and I went to Edinburgh (it rained).  For the first time in ages my mother-in-law made one of her special jellies: it was milky green so I guess lime and cucumber and milk. Grannie and Grampa survive the week well, but we get the impression they are glad we came back to take the children home again...

We did get time for a guided tour of Norwich's elephants on Daddy's birthday.  Great-Uncle John was visiting from the US so our children merrily skipped around the city, snapping as many of the decorated beasts as they could.  We saw the cathedral area for the first time and were impressed: it is quite a beautiful, quiet place.  As evensong was already beginning we didn't venture inside but it is on a 'to do' list.  We made do with tea and biscuits in the refectory instead.