Blessing for Dad….

May the one who exchanges beauty for ashes,

Who brings joy from mourning,

Who is able to redeem, reconcile and restore,

Bring us peace.


May the one who created men capable of magnificent bear hugs,

Envelope us,

Comfort us,

In our time of need.


May the one who sparked that cheeky glint in an eye,

Help us have eyes that see glimmers of hope all around,

Eyes open to you,

And to seeing your divine light in those around us.


May the one who gives eternal hope,

Who has beaten death,

Has sent it running for cover with its tail between its legs,

Bring us hope.


For the Kingdom is yours,

The victory is won,

Hope is assured,

Faith is secure

And Love wins,

Now and forever



For Daddy….

ImageI wanted to write something devastatingly beautiful

In testament to a devastatingly beautiful life,

A devastatingly tragic death,

But words seem so empty.



You, who were able to make me smile in almost everything.

Who comforted just by the slightest touch,

And of course the breath-taking, rib-squeezing bear hug.

Who knew so much of me,

And helped me see so much more of Him.


To have known you is to have known something of Jesus,

Grace, joy, compassion, faith, humanity, humility, hospitality,

(maybe not patience!)


Anchored to a faith foundation that remained throughout.

Modelling hope in adversity,

Demonstrating faith in action,

Showing love.


I see you everywhere still

On the 1b bus, your bus,

In the stories I read my children,

At the bus park, sand park, water-tower park.

Walking through the gardens counting squirrels,

Playing scrabble,

Playing catch-up,

‘What shall we have for lunch; dip-dip egg, big egg, crackers?’

‘Another Ice-cream?’,

Fish and chips as a secret treat

Grandad roast dinners

Your Yorkshire puddings will remain unrivalled.

Special paper,

Special times.

Embarrassing me.

‘If you were supposed to have holes in your ears you’d have been born with them.’


Big chats,




Grandad cheese,

Grandad Egg,

Mind your backs – all clear,

Black dogs,

‘Cup of tea?’


I suppose I will always hear your echo reverberating in daily life,

The shadow of you,

That thought

‘what would Dad say?’


Most of all you live on in the way that I live,

In the lives of my children.

My greatest tribute won’t be words but a life,

A life that hopes to be something like yours,

A life embedded in faith, fuelled by hope and lavishly rich in love.

A life like yours,

A Jesus life.