The gloaming. It’s so beautiful, and it lasts so long at
this time of year in Scotland that they had to invent their own word for it. I
stood on the rocks at the entrance to Tarbert Harbour a couple of nights ago,
listening to the lullaby of the lapping waves and watching the lightshow over
the village.
The end of the day. Time to stand still and reflect on the
day’s activities, the day’s successes or failures, and give the package to God.
Somehow things can look clearer from an end-of-the-day perspective. Mistakes
may be highlighted and can be apologised for. Jesus moments can be perceived
and gratitude can rise, filling the heart with joy and peace.
The beloved dad of dear friends recently reached the end of
his long life. His gloaming probably lasted a bit longer than he might have
chosen, but it had a beauty about it, too, as loved ones had time to appreciate
him and say their adieus.
He is now in one big Jesus moment, home at the end of his
day, and his loved ones can rest assured that they walked him home safely.
There is a quiet beauty at the end of a life well-lived.
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