As he donned his gear, I felt the old familiar tears well up. You would have been so proud of him. And no doubt would have gone to one or two of his matches. I thought about his own dad, whom you and your brother called Grandad John, and his mum Granny Sellers, both cricketing afficianados. Indeed they took your dad to his first match when he was still a babe in arms, pushing his pram to the local ground! How pleased they would've been too.
|Matt in the garden. 2002|
I forever miss you, to a depth so profound I cannot see the end, and the enormity of the loss so vaste and wide, that it surrounds me. But we have the promise that creation will be redeemed, and oh what a day that will be! And what a hope we have in our own redemption! So in the midst of deep deep pain and loss, there can be joy.
"You are the Lord
The Saviour of all
God of creation we praise you,
We sing the songs that awaken the dawn,
God of creation we praise you!"
So "Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away," may Jesus hold you close.
|Dawn in the garden.|