(My weekly family story will follow tomorrow!)
The morning wrapped the curving shoulder of the earth in a silken shawl of intense sapphire blue and salmon pink.
On a winged boat, above a softly pillowed, gray sea of possibilities, we sailed into the east; cutting through air with the ease of knife through butter.
We break through the silvery sea, soft and silent as silken flax on breeze; leaving heaven to enter the sleeping world of man.
A cluster of village lights sparkle in a patchwork quilt of muted green and gold and strangely silent country roads.
It is 6.30 a.m. and we are about to land at Birmingham airport.
Exactly 40 years ago we left this place for new life and new land: Canada. The life and land we chose have been more than good to us; God has been good to us there; but still, there was a cost; there is a cost for all good things but grace.
We seem to have been mere children then, when we look back now through the lens of time gone by. What did we know then of life or sense or breaking parents’ hearts? We knew little. Perhaps if we had known more, we would have missed much more. We sailed away then on a ship of steel, into the west in the evening of the day, and a future unknown.
But we are here; now; in these precious moments; loving. Heartache is long forgotten.
I sit beside Mum’s bed to say goodnight. In rosebud sprinkled, pink flannel nightdress she lays back on her pillows and smiles her joy through eyes of blazing love.
I ask her, “Shall I pray?”
She smiles and takes my hands. And she says, “Shall we pray.”
Yes, we shall pray!