Vigil

I have a disproportionate love of a carol service in the run up to Christmas. The atmosphere takes hold of me and launches me into the season, lifting it past the domain of fizz and mince pies with a pungent hit of what it’s all about.

So I stood there this Sunday night in a darkened church, candles blazing, lights gleaming off the Christmas tree and holly, some three hundred voices rising strong up to the rafters, singing of hope.

Reminded why we do this every year – why we keep our vigil in the depths of winter, standing together over evergreen and wine, fires burning against the darkest night.