To give some context to our day today, I am adding a link to a previous post: Remembering Uncle John in memory of a dear member of our family who through his visits to us in Canada, became known and loved by many of our friends, and also by those who have read about him here on Whatever He Says.
When Paul and I were here in January I wrote about our hope to scatter his ashes; in Memories and Mortality; but it proved too difficult to get everyone together at that time.
But today six of us gathered high in the breathtakingly beautiful Malvern Hills, near the town that is Paul's birthplace, to scatter Uncle John's ashes in a place that was special to him. Paul and I were there with Stephen and Sam, Uncle John's sons--and Arthur and Liz, close friends of Uncle John's.
We met at the place called Wyche Cutting, overlooking Herefordshire and Worcestershire. The photographs don't do justice to the panorama below us.
The rain that we could see rolling in across the fields below held off as Stephen scattered Uncle John's ashes. We had a few moments of prayer and God brought Psalm 121 to my mind.
Psalm 121King James Version (KJV)
121 I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.2 My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.3 He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.4 Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.5 The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.6 The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.7 The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.8 The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.
As we climbed down the hill to the car park I noticed that the moisture in the air refracted the light into a veil of rainbow. It was beautiful--a sign of hope.
Below us lay field upon field, dotted with sheep. Villages and farms nestled in the folds of the hills and train tracks and roads ran like stitches across a crazy quilt. No one could wish for a finer or more peaceful resting place.