attention-seeking

There are times when death demands our attention.

Like some spoilt child, it rudely interrupts all else that is going on to insist that we don't forget this simple fact of all our earthly lives - we die.

There's been a lot of that these past few days.

Folk for whom a parent's passed away.

One of our leaders, yesterday - who always looked so young (despite being up in his seventies) and who always had a warm and courteous smile across his face - he passed away in hospital after a quick and sudden illness.

And then, at night, as well, I was round to see a man who's got ... well, he doesn't exactly know how long he's got, except that it's not that long.

"God's been good," he declared as I sat with him and his wife.

Not that the man's not had an ample share of troubles, sorrows and hurts.

But he wanted to think of the good things. Sound advice for all of us.

The gift of his wife, a love in which their spirits are simply woven together as one.

The gift of his home, a delightful flat in beautiful grounds, spacious and bright and a home that they'd done up together. I hadn't been there before, but I could see straight off what he meant.

And the gift of a thousand little providential things, each one a token of a God who's there and a God who cares and a God who takes an interest in us all. Down to the smallest detail.

The guy's not a hugely spiritual man, or anything like that. 'Church' has not been a thing that's figured large across the radar of his life. At least I don't get that impression.

But he's quick to learn; and quick to embrace the gentle, timely overtures of God's good grace extended to him now. And quick to relate to the message of this Jesus who has risen from the dead.

When you're facing the grave yourself, I guess it assumes a certain pressing relevance.

Death may well demand our attention.

But it's been well and truly attended to. Very truly. And very well.