three deceased

It's late already, but the night, I suspect, has barely begun. I've at least another two hours' work to do.

Three men have all died.

It's strange, in some ways, how similar all of them are. All men. All elderly, late eighties or into their nineties. All fine family men. All with a notable life of service behind them. All men of some distinction.

Which makes it a bit confusing as well, with all of their funeral services still to come. At least potentially confusing, as I listen to the praise the families want, and gather all the details of these long, illustrious lives.

For a guy like me, well past the age of 40, it's a job to remember which details belong to whom!

Today has been spent, in large part, preparing for all of these services still to come. I've spent time with two of the families, going over the way that they want the service to be, and reflecting at length on their loved one no longer around.

These sorts of visits take time. And rightly so. Grief is not a thing you ever rush. And a life well lived is a life that needs to be savoured.

The family with whom I spent time in the morning is one that I've known for the last twenty yeas and more. A warm and lovely family, with whom it's always a joy to spend some time.

They've not had it easy in life. But the warmth of their welcome and the richness of friendship they always so kindly extend is itself a reminder of all that this man truly was.

At times like this, it isn't hard to recognise how sacred is the ground that grief creates. The Lord is very present and his grace in Christ is everywhere apparent.

I don't take off my shoes. But it most times feels like I should.

The other family I know less well, though the man who's died and his wife I've got to know a bit across the years. It's the first time that I've met his childen - albeit now they're well on in their adult years, retired themselves, or just about to do so in the next few years.

But it was good to have time this afternoon reflecting, too, with them, on all their loved one's been. A man of considerable stature, in all sorts of ways.

Again, such times as this are dignified by not being rushed at all. The flow of the river of sorrow and loss requires to be gentle and long.

But the really long work is the time that I'm finally managing to take just now to prepare for the first of these services of thanksgiving which takes place tomorrow.

At least there's no one around any more, so no interruptions at all!

Just time in the presence of God. And the chance to be still and to hear what it is that he means to be doing and saying when people all gather tomorrow.

Grief is a hungry emotion and needs a lot of time.