As Christmas returns and the light of the Incarnate Word breaks once more into our winter darkness, I find myself reflecting on a year shaped by grace, perseverance, and the quiet work of God in unexpected places.

Life in Monasterevin with my husband and our two cats continues to be a blessing and a grounding presence. Even amid the steady rhythm of dialysis and the realities of chronic illness, I have known the companionship of Christ in the ordinary—in the warmth of a coat shrugged on before church, in the welcome of familiar faces, in the gentle constancy of community.

This year has brought renewed opportunities to serve. My volunteer communications work with St John Ambulance Ireland and the wider Order of St John Communications Community of Practice has been a particular joy. To labour alongside others under the Order’s guiding mottoes—Pro Fide, Pro Utilitate Hominum—has reminded me that faith and service are never separate paths but one shared pilgrimage. In small ways, through words, clarity, and connection, I have tried to serve both God and neighbour.

Creatively, 2025 has been a year of deepening and abundance. Alongside The Church Is Open: Advent, I published The Church Is Open: Christmas & Epiphany, extending that liturgical journey into the seasons of light and revelation. I also published Chosen and Kept, Hands that Know, and In the Rounds—works rooted not in theology but in the lived reality of dialysis, the rituals of care, and the resilience demanded by chronic illness. And Carried: The Bears’ Book of Blessings brought a gentler, imaginative tenderness to the year—a reminder that blessing often arrives in unexpected forms. I was humbled to be awarded membership of the Irish Writers Centre for 2025–2026, supported by the Arts Council of Northern Ireland—a gift that has encouraged me to keep writing, keep questioning, keep hoping.

My musical life has also found new breath. I have been blessed to play the organ again in both the Church of Ireland and Roman Catholic parish churches here—a reminder that worship transcends walls, and that music remains one of the most generous languages of prayer.

And after a quieter season online, I’ve returned to more regular blogging—both at NeuroDivine.blog, where I explore the intersections of faith and neurodiversity, and at hivblogger.com, where I continue to write with honesty about health, dignity, and the journey toward wholeness.

Through all of this, I have been upheld by the kindness of friends, colleagues, and communities near and far. Your encouragement has been a sacrament of its own.

As we celebrate the birth of Christ—the Light who chooses to dwell among us—my prayer is simple: that you may know His peace in your home, His strength in your struggles, and His joy in the year to come.

Thank you for walking with me through this year. May the blessing of the Christ‑child rest upon you and those you love, this Christmas and always.

Every blessing for Christmas and for 2026.

Michael