Walking each other home

 

Walking each other home. One of my favourite phrases and concepts.

This morning, we put on our funeral attire. We prayed for the bereaved family. We got to the crematorium in plenty of time and were the first ones inside. A programme was handed to me. I didn’t recognise the lady, but I hesitated. We were there to support the family of a neighbour who we didn’t know well, but had great respect for. We nearly sat down but then agreed in a whisper: ‘This is the wrong funeral!’

Departing against the incoming tide of mourners, a quick check with the funeral director confirmed it: we were a week early.

There is a time for everything, and God knows those times. Sometimes we get them wrong. We object when things don’t follow the pattern we marked out, or assumed. We cry out to God: the death of this very kind and helpful neighbour of ours came too soon (like we did).

Sometimes the world intervenes and destroys what should have been. Young lives cut short by the evil actions of a disturbed young man with easy access to deadly weapons of mass destruction. We cry out to God: open the eyes of the blind, Lord! Restore common sense to those wielding power through the cheque-books. Help us, Lord, help us.

We are in the middle of the days between ascension and Pentecost, set apart by the Archbishop of Canterbury for an initiative called Thy Kingdom Come. We were encouraged in church to note five people we know who have yet to step into the kingdom, and focus daily prayers on them. I shared the list with one of my precious granddaughters, Felicity. Every morning I am praying these five precious girls and women into the Kingdom of God.

Walking them home.

Fill us with love and compassion, Lord, so that we can fulfil our calling to walk each other home. And we humbly ask that you intervene to prevent the violence that shortens natural lifespans, the violence going on globally in so many ways.

As we endeavour to walk others home, Lord, please walk us home, into your glorious Kingdom. Amen.