I love the early morning - it really is the best part of the day at this time of year as far as I'm concerned. All the same, I wasn't best pleased when my doorbell went off last Wednesday morning at half past three. I couldn't find my slippers and bounded to the door barefoot on the cold floor but there was no one there and no sign of anyone in the street or lurking in any neighbouring gardens so I stumbled back to bed muttering curses on people for ringing doorbells and running away.

I was just dropping off again with the World Service nattering away in the background when the same thing happened not once but twice and in our house it's not the sort of noise you can ignore - Westminster Chimes I think they call it. In the end I carried out a simple experiment, went outside and just touched the bell push ever so lightly and it rang again - there must have been a short circuit in the box making it so sensitive that even a breath of the wind would set it off. So, I simply took the batteries out and then slept through the alarm. It's a good thing it didn't happen this morning or I'd have been late for Wednesday Word.

When I came to think about this incident, it reminded me of the boy Samuel in the Bible. He was sleeping in the sanctuary of God at a place called Shiloh and a number of times in the middle of the night he heard a voice calling his name. Each time, he went to ask his elderly mentor what he needed but each time, Eli told him to go back to sleep. The last time, Eli realised it was God calling the boy to a special task as a leader of the people and he told Samuel to say, 'Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.' That's what Samuel did and he began a long career as a messenger from God that very night.