Hugs

I am wearing an Arran knit jumper which I bought in 1971 in Jenner’s, a wonderful department store in Edinburgh. Sadly the store is no longer there, but in its day it was exceptional for its quality.

This jumper has kept me warm over many years. A few threads have broken. One cuff is frayed. But basically, it is still keeping me warm. Quality lasts.

In the cupboard in my bedroom, on the top shelf towards the back is a cardinal sweatshirt. It is a men’s size large, with Trojans emblazoned across the front. It was my dad’s, from his alma mater USC, and of all the touchstones I have with him, this is the one I go to when I am feeling sad and in need of my dad. I put it on, zip it up, and, swamped in it though I am, I sense his protective arms around me. And I am comforted.

We are living in uncertain days. We are all concerned for our loved ones. Those in my age group long to help our children and grandchildren as they struggle to home-school, work from home, survive as health service workers, make do on reduced incomes. They refuse to be helped, fearful that they will infect us and we won’t survive an infection. We long to wrap our arms round each other, but we can’t. There is an invisible enemy preying on us, and we are all just doing our best.

Come to me, Jesus invites us. I will gather my loved ones into my embrace. He’s got the whole world in his arms, as the beautiful spiritual goes. Receive his hug, his loving, powerful hug. He’s closer than you think.