Hope springs eternal

I have yet to put in photos of the many churches visited. But today, on the eleventh of August, on the Feast of St Clare, I just wish to write about goodbyes.

We say good byes in so  many ways. Here are photos of the sky taken from my seat in the plane. We are flying back after our trip. . . We have the scene at the airport, laden with our luggage, with all that somehow always weigh us down, what is material, what is temporal. . . . .

This morning, I am still thinking of the young man who died while trying to fly a plane alone. What must have been the last moments when he panicked and realised that he was no longer in control of the machine he was trying to fly in the sky? What about so many others in the hospitals and elsewhere as death seizes each one, some totally  unprepared, others slipping out quietly?

On this day, death does seem like a threat but it must not be so. It can come at any moment. That moment must be one of glory as one returns home to the Father of us all, our Creator God. I am thinking of some last things as someone sought to get a will made. Do we really have control? None. By the grace of God, every new day is a gift. . . let my reflection end here as I embark on this gift of life. Today in our community we share on the gift of our Blessed Mother Mary and the Saints. Glorious is the thought of  heaven and the heavenly hosts of angels with the whole company of saints praising God for all eternity. Yes, hope springs eternal in the  human heart. Praise God!