Two months’ disruption. Mom’s death precipitated my being
away in California most of the month of August. I already had plans to visit
her in September, along with taking a road trip with Mhairi up the coast, so
that drew me back across the pond, and then, three days after returning to
Scotland, I was off again. This time for a weekend in Amsterdam, meeting my
university friend, Joanne, who was about to embark on a river cruise.
In the midst of it all, I went to an exercise class with my
cousin’s wife and hurt my back. At last, today I get to see the physio, and am
praying for relief.
I am delighted to be back in my home, back in my prayer
window, back with my dear husband Don, who is so loving and supportive. Breakfast
in bed. Wow.
My attention was drawn to the small collection of olive wood
figures there. Two crosses of different designs, and two pairs of praying hands.
The smaller I bought in Jericho when there with Mom 15 years ago; the larger
she bought at the same time. Now I have them both.
As I bow my head and sometimes bring my hands together like
that, I sense her larger hands embracing mine, her prayers mingling with mine,
her love as strong as ever.
Love never dies. Life continues on, in a different place, in
a different way.
I am so grateful for all of God’s amazing gifts. Especially for
Jesus, whose sacrifice saves us and who never leaves us. I lift my arms in
praise and love, thanksgiving and hope, confident in his faithful promises,
grateful for his constant presence.
