December 5, 2025
Throughout this season of preparation and anticipation, we invite you to join us in a series of blogs that focus on gratitude, awe and adoration, intercession and compassion, contemplation, and presence. Like any practice, the act of doing the ‘thing’ is crucial to the transformation it incites. All We Can champions the decolonisation of aid; we seek to challenge what harms in the world while nurturing what heals. We do this so that communities thrive. We know, however, that talking about it is not enough.
So we join the wide-eyed shepherds beneath the night sky, and the ordinary people who found themselves caught up in extraordinary news, learning again to pause, to gaze, to recognise the holy in the midst of everyday life. Adoration and awe invite us to lift our eyes, to remember God’s goodness, to notice what is beautiful and fragile, and to rediscover our place within God’s unfolding story.
In each blog, we offer a glimpse into the practice, a story from our partners, and a simple invitation for you to try in your own rhythm of Advent.
As we build up to Christmas, the busyness of it all can make us lose perspective.
We worry about presents.
We worry about money.
We watch glossy adverts full of perfect people having perfect Christmases and feel… inadequate.
But the practice of adoration reminds us of a deeper truth:
We are already held, already known, already loved by God.
So perhaps this is a moment to pause, to step out of the rush and let our perspective shift toward awe, wonder, and the overwhelming goodness of God.
The buddleia between the tracks
Recently, while waiting for a train, I noticed a solitary buddleia plant growing between the railway tracks. Small, vulnerable yet thriving.
A tiny burst of life in an unlikely place.
Moments like this remind me to look again, to see not a weed but a quiet miracle. Even this fragile plant is held within God’s love.
And that brings me to Patrick.
Patrick’s story: adoration in action
Patrick chairs the Ombeke People With Disabilities Group in Uganda — a joyful community finding purpose and dignity through beekeeping.
When colleagues visited, Patrick greeted them with a smile and said:
‘I am very grateful to meet you, and I give glory to God.’
The group keeps bees because it is accessible to everyone. One member shared:
‘Out of one beehive, I got one litre of honey and used that money to pay school fees for my daughter.’
Patrick himself used to be afraid of bees and discouraged by his family. After training from Buba (an All We Can partner), he said:
‘They have trained us how to remove the fear and build boldness and courage in my heart.’
Beekeeping hasn’t only changed Patrick’s income, it has changed his local landscape. He now plants trees everywhere around his home:
‘Beekeeping motivates me to plant trees… it brings a nice environment to my home.’
A world made greener because one person discovered courage, community, and hope.
And when the group receives their processed honey?
‘We feel good in our hearts… we feel alive, we feel joy.’
This is adoration: seeing God’s goodness in the small, the ordinary, the blossoming and responding with gratitude.
Let’s practice
One small Wonder
At some point today, pause and choose one tiny thing in your surroundings — a leaf, a cup of tea, a sound, a splash of sunlight, the warmth of a coat.
Hold it in your awareness for just ten seconds.
Let it draw you into gratitude.
Let it remind you that God is present even here, even now, even in this smallness.
Take a different perspective
If you can today, find somewhere with a view — a café window, a park bench, a bus stop, or your own front room.
Pause. Watch the world go by.
Let yourself rest in the wonder that:
* You are loved by God,
* You are part of the Body of Christ,
* You belong within this beautiful, aching world.
We are not insignificant to God, yet we are still one tiny part of a vast story stretching far beyond us.
Adoration lifts our gaze away from lists and pressures and centres us again on the unshakeable love of God revealed in Jesus, the One who shows us how to live in that love.
A prayer of humility
Another practice you might try this week is writing your own humility prayer. When I sit on a hill walking my dog, looking over the patchwork below, I’m reminded how small I am in the vastness of creation and yet endlessly loved.
Here is my prayer:
Loving God,
As I gaze at the patchwork below—the fields, homes and the ancient church—
I think of those who came before me,
who worked these lands, prayed in these churches,
and placed their lives in your hands.
I lift my eyes to the downs,
shaped over millions of years,
and across to the hill fort
where iron age people once lived.
I think of the people in the houses below,
carrying their own burdens and blessings.
I trace the road winding into the distance,
reaching towns full of stories—
each one known and loved by you.
Looking closer, I notice the wildflowers at my feet,
the hum of insects, the birds overhead—
Your quiet miracles in motion.
And I remember that I, too, am part of this—
small in the vastness, yet precious in your sight.
Remind me that we are all called
to be your quiet miracles in motion.
Creator God,
Teach me to walk humbly, love deeply, trust fully.
To centre my life on your love
and root my days in your grace.
In Jesus’ name.
Amen.
