No, I'm not going to write about those wise men who sought Jesus all those years ago. My mind is not crossing oceans, continents or centuries. My pleasure and joy today is so very close to me. It is my home.
5th January each year I dismantle the Christmas decorations and for a few days my home is, shall we say, minimalist. Over the next few weeks I shall choose the little ornaments and reminders of joy which will be on show this year, but on 6th January there is very little on display, just a few flowers, and one or two Christmas presents. My sitting room is as bare as ever it will be. It is calm, but not impersonal, and each visible surface is clear.
I have always enjoyed having stuff which I have been given. There in the corner is a chest of drawers which belonged to my great grandmother and on it stands a large lamp from an aunt. In another corner is a Pembroke table which was my grandmother's and the oak bureau which I got for Christmas when I was seven is close by. Most of my easy chairs and the sofa were my mother's, except for the Victorian chair which belonged to a great aunt. The only item of furniture in this room which I bought new is the very cheap TV table on which this laptop stands.
And yet in my home there is harmony and that engenders harmony in me. Truly my home is a source of deep joy.