a night to remember!

Today I got another 'practical' in this business of interpreting these constant interruptions to my daily life as really opportunities.

The Lord must want me to learn this lesson well, I think. And it certainly makes for a full and exciting life!

Tonight I was out pretty early, with a couple of calls to make. To be there in time for the second, I knew I was going to be rushed with the first. But I figured I could manage it OK.

I had to come to the halls first of all. And while I was there, just leaving to go, along came this gang of four ladies. 'Mature', I guess you'd have called them. Politely.

'Mature'. Well, at least in terms of their years. In terms of their outlook and behaviour anything but. As I was soon to discover myself.

They were lost. They were out for a night on the town. Which for them meant an evening of whist at a local bowling club. Well, 'local' if you lived about a mile or two away from here.

And they hadn't a clue where it was. Or how to get there.

(They were from the other side of town).

When I finally got the picture of where they wanted to be, I explained where it was and how much off their target they all were.

It crossed my mind immediately I had a choice. Tell them where it was. Or take them there.

The second was fraught with risk, of course.

I mean, me, one poor young man, stuck in a car with a squad of handbag-clutching women, all intent on a whist-filled night on the town...

I went for the risky option.

"Pile into the car," I said to them. "I'll take you there."

For the next ten minutes there was non-stop chatter. And shrieks of appreciation.

"You've given us all a night to remember!" the leading one said as they slowly manoeuvred themselves out of the car.

And she leaned right over from way in the back and gave me a mature and sloppy kiss on the cheek.

(I hoped this whole scenario was not being closely watched and misinterpreted by passers by! But that was part of the risk, I guess)

But the lady's words remained in my mind and it leaves me thinking if that's not really what every single morning, noon and night should be about.

Our giving the folk we're with a day and a time to remember. Giving people memories.

In some ways I think that's the essence of just how Jesus lived. He gave the people he was with a day and a life to remember. And bids us do the same.

Betty did that.

Betty who died a week or so ago, and for whom we held a service of thanksgiving here today. She gave us all such satisfying memories. Which made the occasion today a rich and enriching time.

In fact, there were two services. A service first along at the crematorium. Well attended. Dignified. And worshipful. With a chance to speak a little of the way that Betty lived, the reason for the impact that she had.

And then a service here. Longer. And more of a crowd again. Perhaps as many as a hundred and fifty folk. From all different walks of life.

Many from the village here, some who'd really known her all their life. And many from her working life. And many from the congregation here. And many others too from different points across her lovely life.

We packed a lot into a rapid hour. More singing by far than there usually is at services such as that. But Betty loved to sing!

We had a picture of her projected on the wall. The day she'd been the 'Gracious Lady' here at the local gala almost twelve long years ago. She looked terrific, with her great beaming smile.

And we half expected the picture thrown onto the wall to burst out in song as well!

She gave us a life to remember all right. And it was good to have time to remember, at least in its outlines, the life that she lived down the years.

There was a lunch in the hall as well, right after the service here. Maybe eighty or more staying on, which was great.

I don't know how the girls can manage as they do, but they always make occasions such as this just perfect. Sort of like a tiny little foretaste of the world where Betty's gone.

They made it a time to remember, that's for sure.

From there it was out and on to see the family of the man whose death I'd been informed about. His wife had died some thirteen years ago or so and I had been involved with him, and them, back then. A lovely family. And he himself, a really lovely man.

It was good to have the time with them. And it was, I suppose, a time with us all just remembering. A whole long line of pleasant, happy memories. What a wonderful gift to leave with the people who mourn. A lifetime full of memories.

It's strange how hard it is to switch. To switch, I mean, from being so much caught up with Betty's death - and all the raw emotions in my heart involved with that - to sharing with another grieving family and all the common ground I share with them.

Looking back on the day, I'm thinking now - I wonder if I gave them all, these different folk I've been with through the day, I wonder if I gave them all a day that they'll remember.

The pupils at the school. The services of worship. The visit to that grieving family's home. The time spent later in the evening with the folk with whom I'm meeting now quite regularly week by week to work through what the Bible has to say.

I wonder, did I give them all a time that they'll remember. Do I live my life, each day, in such a way - as Jesus did - that I give the people whom I'm with a day that they'll remember?