For what are men better than sheep or goats, That nourish a blind life within the brain. If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer, Both for themselves, and those that call them friend. Alfred Lord Tennyson Morte D'ArthurThere seems to be so much struggle and pain around at the moment. A little while ago another one of the teenagers I worked with over the years passed away. Now this morning I heard of Mark who is terminally ill. I can remember Mark from the age of 12 years old. I knew him in Sunday school and was his leader as a youth. The parents divorced, and then his grandma passed away I remember feeling honoured to be asked to come to the funeral and afterwards to the wake. I later discovered it was to keep both parents on best behaviour, such was the trust he and his siblings felt. Mark has a partner and a child and that only makes it worse.
Tonight I feel the frustration and pain of my adopted god-daughter far away in Shanghai. I cannot protect or shelter or effectively console her. For all those I know suffering or struggling with sickness or painful situations at the moment I cannot offer and will not offer simplistic solutions. All I have are my prayers in this moment.
O LORD, I call to you; come quickly to me. Hear my voice when I call to you. May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. Psalm 141:1-2