Reviewing moments?

And so it is. The new year has come. The new white pages have been scribbled on already and I’m back in the land of recordable thoughts and ideas. I really don’t want to make resolutions. They fail after the first attempt. But there is much I want to do in the next year, there are many hopes and fears that I have. Mainly they revolve around being faithful to the one who is faithful to me. This year depends on the continuation of His character as one who loves unfailingly, as one who has enough mercy to get me steadily closer to home.

The holiday was good, friends were seen, beaches were walked upon, family were hugged and sofas were sat upon. Many thoughts were thought. And now I am back in these lands of Hove wondering what is in store for us all in the new year. Whatever randomness may be expunged from this brain, whatever we face, whatever brilliant things happen, the only hope we really have is the old story. Of reality in this world. Of things that go beyond what we can see in front of our eyes.

Some old hymns that express just a little bit of that…

I cannot tell why He whom angels worship
Should set His love upon the sons of men
Or why, as shepherd, He should seek the wanderers
To bring them back, they know not how or when
But this I know, that He was born of Mary
When Bethlehem's manger was His only home
And that He lived at Nazareth and laboured
And so the Saviour, Saviour of the world is come.

I cannot tell how silently He suffered
As with His peace He graced this place of tears
Or how His heart upon the cross was broken
The crown of pain to three and thirty years
But this I know, He heals the broken-hearted
And stays our sin and calms our lurking fear
And lifts the burden from the heavy laden
For yet the Saviour, Saviour of the world is here.


Tell me the old, old story,
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love;
Tell me the story simply,
As to a little child,
For I am weak and weary,
And helpless and defiled.

Tell me the old, old story,
Tell me the old, old story,
Tell me the old, old story,
Of Jesus and His love.

Tell me the story slowly,
That I may take it in--
That wonderful redemption,
God's remedy for sin;
Tell me the story often,
For I forget so soon,
The "early dew" of morning
Has passed away at noon.