I can feel my grandma’s lap, one that she held me on long after I was too big
I can feel her chair rock us both as she strokes my hair and sings softly in my ear… why should we tarry when Jesus us pleading? Pleading for you and for me. Why should we linger and heed not his mercy, mercy for you, and for me.
I can smell the campfire at my grandpa’s house, I can hear the cousins running and playing in the dying light.
Is this what heaven looks like? Is it a jumble and collection of all the best memories? Are all of our people there, do we get them back just as they were before? Only perfected?
Lord we remember before you today all of the dearly (and not so dearly) departed.
Help us to be tender and soft with ourselves, and with each other, as the memories rush in.
Help us to be tender and soft as our world hurtles toward we don’t even know what. Quell our fear.
Help us to remember that no matter what happens this week our work is the same: Seek the lost, love the lonely, respect the dignity of each person.
Give us courage, Lord, because we are afraid.
Give us comfort, Lord, because we are grieving so much and so many.
Give us peace, Lord, help us to believe that you will part the waters, smite the rock, light the bush on fire, and send justice down like rain, again.
I invite your intercessions and thanksgivings, and the names of your dead, in the comments below. May the peace that passes all understanding be with us, and may the departed rest in peace and rise in glory.
Alicia Hager resides in West Michigan and is a Postulant to the Sacred Order of Priests in the Episcopal Church. Alicia enjoys spending time with her daughters and her husband, is bonkers about her cats, and blogs at astrawberrypointe.wordpress.com.
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