Last week

Last week was a week of many firsts.
For the first time ever I climbed a tree, all to aid my first ever attempt of breaking and entering, all of which was the idea of my friend Kaylee.


Now, this isn't what it sounds like. I am certainly not an aspiring criminal.
Last week I was supposed to be going to Dad's grave, and Kaylee to Katie's. Unfortunately, we didn't realise what time the gates were locked. So, in the freezing cold, wearing a floral print dress, tights and brogues (not an ideal tree climbing outfit), Kaylee gave me a leg up into a tree and onto the cemetery fence. Thankfully we realised BEFORE jumping down on to the other side that there would be absolutely no way of escape and we would've been stuck there until 8am the next morning. An unideal situation, I think we can all agree.


This may seem a strange thing to say, but I love Dad's gravestone. It's pretty standard, black marble, not particularly stand out-ish. On the rare occasion I've been to visit I've been known to walk right past it before realising it's there. It rarely has any (live) flowers in front of it. To anyone else, it's just another stone to mark another person who's died, another person who's missed.
But for me, it declares an incredible truth. To describe Dad's death, my mum had 'went to be with his Lord' inscribed on it. Not 'fell to sleep' or 'passed away', my Dad simply went to be with his Lord.
What a comforting and precious reminder!
As a Christian, I have no need to fear death! That's bold. There's no need to question, 'what comes next'. I know.