Friends, it has been a special day this week, at least to me: it has been my birthday. And as I’ve approached the dizzying heights of old age (I’m 37), conversations with my wife especially have been dominated by one question, “What do you want for your birthday?”

Sounds simple enough, but anyone over a certain age will tell you it is a question guaranteed to make your mind instantly go blank, a stammered, “Um… er…” the best reply you can hope for. Then, inevitably, when you do think of something it’s always either so extreme as to be unrealistic (two weeks off to walk the Camino de Santiago in Spain) or so mundane as to be depressing (a new bathrobe).

But for this birthday at least, that’s not my biggest problem. My biggest problem is that the things I do want for my birthday aren’t things that can be bought in the shops or ordered online. You can’t get peace for Ukraine or the Holy Land in aisle 4 of Tesco, Amazon can’t sell me something to clean up the River Wharfe, nothing stocked at Booths can make my goddaughter sleep through the night or speed up my best friend’s cancer treatment. The things that really matter in life don’t have quick fixes like that, they can’t be bought or sold or wrapped in colourful paper.

Instead, my wife got me the next best thing: a new cross necklace, made of steel, to replace one that broke on me a few years back. It doesn’t have magic powers or protective qualities; instead it’s a symbol, a reminder of all that Jesus did and continues to do for us. I can feel it now as I write this. I know that I can’t solve all the problems of the world; if I tried I would do more harm than good, and burn out before the end of the week. But that little piece of metal round my neck does help, it’s a reassurance that there is someone who sees them all; all the struggles, all the joys, and who is working to bring good out of all of them. That’s God’s promise to us, not a birthday present but an Easter gift, the promise of a better world, if not now on Earth then later in heaven.

In the meantime though, I guess I’ll make do with the bathrobe.