It has been a strange and sad day here in the North East. It started very early with a huge thunderstorm and widespread flooding of homes, shops and traffic disruption. We heard mid morning of a major rail accident near Stonehaven, in which very sadly, three people have died and a number have been injured. It was announced in Parliament that the lock down of Aberdeen city will continue for at least another week. And by mid afternoon the sun has been shining on one of the hottest days of the summer. So the inter-connectedness of our lives sometimes comes home to us powerfully as a reminder of our shared humanity.
A train driver doing his job in horrendous conditions, and tonight his family mourn in stunned silence and a sense of irreparable loss; passengers journeying south to work, or family, or who knows why, and tragically, two more families's lives are forever changed. Yet the train had only a few passengers because of the lock down and the reduced numbers allowed on public transport, meaning the casualty numbers while devastating, are much lower than if the train had been busy and well filled.
Tonight I pray for families I don't know, but whose human sorrow and desolation I share as one human being to another; and I think of those injured and in hospital, their fear, and pain, and the inner trauma of being a survivor. And those remarkable blue light people whose life work is to respond to such tragedies, and do so with consummate professionalism, compassion and selfless service. Thinking too of our city, and the cost of the lock down, necessary as it is, and just how hard life is for so many folk just now, while now also coming to terms with a major and tragic incident near our homes.
And all this on an evening that is simply gorgeous with blue hazy skies, warm sunshine, and the incongruous sense of sadness, that in such a beautiful world, there can be so much brokenness, sadness and loss.
But in all of this, what matters is the preciousness of each human life, the deep and costly investments we make in each other's lives, in love, service and a welcoming humanity. I pray for those who suffer tonight, and thank God for the skill and dedication of those whose calling is to comfort, heal and support. I pray for those who mourn, and right now can't make sense of what life is now about for them, and hope there are folk there for them, not with answers, but with shared tears and love that's there for the long journey ahead.
"I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does help come from? Help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth." And on a day like this, I did indeed look to my favourite hill, and thought of this Psalm 121, as is my habit when looking at Bennachie. May God be near those who need his help this evening.
Tonight I pray for families I don't know, but whose human sorrow and desolation I share as one human being to another; and I think of those injured and in hospital, their fear, and pain, and the inner trauma of being a survivor. And those remarkable blue light people whose life work is to respond to such tragedies, and do so with consummate professionalism, compassion and selfless service. Thinking too of our city, and the cost of the lock down, necessary as it is, and just how hard life is for so many folk just now, while now also coming to terms with a major and tragic incident near our homes.
And all this on an evening that is simply gorgeous with blue hazy skies, warm sunshine, and the incongruous sense of sadness, that in such a beautiful world, there can be so much brokenness, sadness and loss.
But in all of this, what matters is the preciousness of each human life, the deep and costly investments we make in each other's lives, in love, service and a welcoming humanity. I pray for those who suffer tonight, and thank God for the skill and dedication of those whose calling is to comfort, heal and support. I pray for those who mourn, and right now can't make sense of what life is now about for them, and hope there are folk there for them, not with answers, but with shared tears and love that's there for the long journey ahead.
"I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does help come from? Help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth." And on a day like this, I did indeed look to my favourite hill, and thought of this Psalm 121, as is my habit when looking at Bennachie. May God be near those who need his help this evening.
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