In the Cemetery

We often go and tend to Austin's grave.

We water the flowers and clean off his stone marker.
It is lovely in the cemetery.  It's a peaceful place surrounded
by God's beautiful creation.  We are thankful.

A few weeks ago, I was at Austin's grave alone.

I had made a detour on my bike, and stopped by for a few minutes.

A lady walked past me with her dog and we exchanged a few words.

Her husband was buried not far from our son.  She is eighty.

As I worked at Austin's grave, I noticed an elderly

gentleman grooming some graves a little way off.

When I was leaving, I acknowledged his work.

He engaged me because I had engaged him.

He is ninety.  His wife has been gone six years.

His hobby is tending her grave and those around it.

We exchanged stories and quickly began talking about eternal things.

His face lit up when he realised I was a Christian.  We made a connection.
He wanted to see Austin's grave.  Then, he weed whacked it for me.
He said he would add our son's plot to his roster.  He's been back since.

Isn't it incredible to think of these *chance* encounters 
that are anything but *chance*?  Furthest thing from the truth.
We marvel at the many ways in which the path we are traversing
intersects with another's.  Sometimes only once.
We are keenly aware that our Lord orchestrates every meeting.
He so gently leads us along.  He is with us each step of the way.

The Lord is so very good to us, isn't He?
May we be found following Him wherever He leads.
Until He calls us Home.

Many Blessings, Camille