After Luke 4:16-21

Dear UK, are you…OK?
If your heart could speak
what would your heart say?
If it could be real
with no need to pretend
what would your heart feel
as this year groans…to an end?

The year started well, lockdown was done,
freed from our rooms, was there room for some fun?
Crises gave way to some glimmers of light.
And then Putin put the boot in on that February night.

And the missiles poured down like hell showers of rain.
And we sank to our knees crying, “God, save Ukraine”.
And the siegemaster generals blocked the world’s grain.
And the fuel lines stopped pumping, fuelling our pain.

And inflation came back; “Did you miss me?” it said.
And it blew up the milk and it blew up the bread.
And sure as heat rises, our bills hit the sky.
And now we’re all wearing thermals, and no one asks why.

And it might be trite to put this in verse
when so many others have things so much worse.
Where every new day is a fight to survive
and the prayer of the night is “thank God I’m alive”.

But a heart is a heart, and a fear is a fear
in a life lived in Lagos or a life lived right here.
And anxiety cares not what nation it’s in.
The gnaw is the same from Belfast to Benin.

So has your heart chilled with the strains of this year?
Or does it burn angry with each injustice you hear?
Or maybe it aches from a loss, for a hope,
or maybe it breaks as you ask, “will I cope?”

And now Christmas comes and we pause once again
as we look at a man who knows all our pain
Who, in his hometown, picked up the scroll
where his life on the page before all was unrolled.
Where the Spirit’s anointing spoke of Good News
and the captives found freedom, released from their dues.
Where stumbling blindness met glorious sight
and the year of God’s favour brought sweet day to night

So make your heart a Nazareth, welcome him once more.
Let him speak rich grace to you, where your soul is poor.
May favour be proclaimed to you, the words of glorious son.
May his life be fulfilled in you, this year and all to come.