Lamp on the Hill

Winter Newsletter

It’s getting darker by the day here on the north coast of Ireland, and if I want to get my daily walk in before night descends, I need to leave the house by about 3pm. After walking the blustery beach, and circling the golf course path, and tromping up the hill, dusk is falling hard just as I take my final steps up the incline towards my house on the hill.

A few days ago as I was finishing my walk through some wild weather on a nearly-dark evening, I noticed a vibrant, warm, inviting light shining from the row of houses where I live. I could see that light from all the way down at the bottom of the hill, but I couldn’t identify where it was coming from - which house, which room.

Between the light and me there were bushes and fencing, and the winding road obscured my view. Glimpses of that light, here and there through the gaps, guided me up the steep hill as the wind whipped around me and the rain lashed against my face. Curiosity beckoned me toward it as I squinted my eyes to try to figure out the source of that warm glow. It wasn’t until I rounded the last bend that I could finally see where it was coming from.

My study.

It was the light from the lamp that accompanies me each day as I sit at my desk to work. The very lamp I tap each morning to ignite its 60-watt bulb. The very lamp my son bought me for Christmas last year when I requested something to add a warm glow to my office.

I had no idea my lamp could be seen all the way down at the bottom of the hill. I never thought its soft glow could act as a beacon on a darkening night. I didn’t realize its gentle light could be a guide, an invitation, a welcoming sight.

For the past few months, I’ve been a little withdrawn and quiet here on Bless My Feet. In October, I was traveling a lot and didn’t have the mental space to write. In November, events early in the month in my country of origin threw me off course for a while. Email after email came through from different people I follow, all of whom had nuggets of wisdom or honesty to share. But I couldn’t find any words. I didn’t feel that I had any light to shine at all.

After I noticed my lamp on the hill a few days ago and had a glimmer of inspiration to write a little reflection about it for Bless My Feet, I then heard Carrie Newcomer’s contribution to the Advent Calendar on The Cottage (some of you follow that wonderful Substack by Diana Butler Bass). It was called “A Light in the Window,” and in it, she tells a noticeably similar story about seeing a light in a house on a dark night, and how it offered her hope.

I second-guessed myself. I thought - I shouldn’t write about my story. Carrie Newcomer’s already done that.

But then I realized: the more stories about a light shining in the darkness, the better.

Both of our stories, and countless others that I’m sure we can all recall, reflect on the meaning and inspiration that can be found from seeing a light shining out into the darkness.

A light.

Some lights might be brighter than others. Some might be a flickering candle. Some might be a roaring fire. Some might be like the flashing beam of a lighthouse. Some might be a floodlight that makes everything as bright as day.

My light was nothing more than a 60-watt bulb.

Sometimes I begin to convince myself that there’s no way I could provide a guiding beacon, a ray of hope for others. But when I saw the lamp from my study shining out on the hill as night fell, I realized that even my soft, gentle glow can cast a light that shines much farther and clearer than I could have imagined.

Maybe you’re like that, too.

Sometimes we wonder if our light is bright enough, if our voice is needed, if our actions make a difference, if we can offer hope or guidance to someone out there.

This Advent, and in the coming New Year, I believe that the more of us who are willing to shine our gentle lights from our hills, the more of us who can provide a beacon of hope on dark nights, the better.

That way, we can help light each other’s way.

May you find a light in a window to offer you hope this Advent, and may you remember that you, too, can be a lamp on a hill for others.

Kiran

p.s. I want to thank you all so much for subscribing to this newsletter. It means so much to me that you’re a listening ear as I share these reflections.

To my paid subscribers - your financial support is something I am continually humbled by. To those of you who have renewed your subscriptions recently, I am so grateful. Please read on to find out more about what I’m offering this year to my faithful paid subscribers - access to a new online course, a free spiritual direction session, and a new Bless My Feet gift ebook.

Announcing New Online Course in Jan 2025

In my last newsletter, I asked for some feedback on themes you would like to hear more about - Celtic Spirituality or Spiritual Practices for Resilience. Although the first category won, the second wasn’t far behind. So I’ve decided to offer an online course combining these two - a way for us to stay rooted, nourished, and inspired in 2025.

It will be about habits and spiritual practices we can incorporate into our daily lives to promote wellbeing in body, mind, and spirit. There will be a prerecorded session for each of the 8 weeks, which you can view in your own time, in addition to optional weekly interactive sessions.

Would this be something to sustain and inspire you in the New Year? If so, consider becoming a paid subscriber. I’d love it if you would join me as we find a way to shine our lights in the year ahead.

Find out more about the course

This course will be complimentary for paid subscribers until Jan 6th - Epiphany! After that, it will be available separately on my website.

To register your interest in this course, simply respond to this email saying “Interested!” and I’ll add you to my list when I release more information in the coming weeks. If you become a paid subscriber before January 6th, you will be included automatically.

Psalms for the Journey 2025

I’ve now completed the Psalms journey for 2024 … 44 weeks! If you missed it, don’t worry - I’m going to re-air them next year, so you can pick up the journey (and the journal) whenever you like. Starting after the New Year, I will begin the cycle again. Because… the Psalms never grow old - they speak to us anew, year after year.

And for the next four weeks I’ll be posting a weekly Advent Psalm.

Listen or subscribe to the podcast here

Upcoming Events

Corrymeela Retreats 2025

Stillness in Community (2-3 Days) 27/28th February-2nd March 2025

Resilient Spirit Retreat (6 Days) 29th April-4th May 2025

Find more information here

Celtic Psalms St. Patrick’s US Tour

We’re traveling from the East Coast of the United States to the Midwest during St. Patrick’s Week, March 2025.

Stay tuned for updates here

Special Gifts for Paid Subscribers

As I mentioned earlier, I’m so grateful for the financial support of my paid subscribers - some of you have supported me year after year since I began this Substack in 2021. I can’t tell you what it means to me when you choose to support my work - even when I hide my lamp under a bushel at times :)

As an expression of thanks, I’m offering three gifts to you this year.

• Complimentary admission to my new 8-week online course Habits for the Spirit (before Jan 6th)

• A free spiritual direction session (1 hr on Zoom or in person - all you need to do is send me an email and we’ll work out a time)

• A Bless My Feet gift ebook. This is something I’ve been preparing, but it’s not quite ready to share yet. When it is, you will find it in your inbox.

With thanks again for your financial support, and for many of you, your in-person, real-life friendship, inspiration, and love.

Blessing for our Journey

May the God who shines a light in the darkness

shine a warm light for us

on darkening nights

when the wind whips around us

when the rain stings our faces

when we can barely see the winding road ahead.

And may we let that Light shine through us, too —

not hiding it away,

for even the softest light

can become the brightest beacon.

As we yearn for the light of Advent,

may we not hold back

from casting our gentle glow,

so that together

we might help to light each other’s way.

Amen