Years ago, my Dad was seriously ill in hospital. I happened to be on holiday in the Peak District with my wife when I got “the call” from the ward at about 10pm in the evening.

It was a filthy night and I remember driving through thick fog, wondering if we would get there before Dad passed away. We didn’t but we were able pay of respects to him in the hospital. And I still remember that day.

This week I was reminded of it when a man came into the office. He too had got “the call” from the hospital. His mother was passing away. But this time, rather than the two-and-a-half hour drive from the Peaks, he had to jump on a plane from South Africa.

I remember the turmoil in my thoughts as I drove to Dad, and could only imagine his anguish at being so far away from his Mom at a time like this.

We went down to the ward together and his mother was very close to the end. And for the son, well he felt it right for him and Mom, to have some prayers said for her. And so we did.

The man said that as he got older, his spirituality was important to him and gave him strength.

“I’ve learnt to put aside all my own plans and trust in the Big Man’s plans. That gives me a sense of peace that I never had before.”

I was taken by this thought: how often do we plan things and strive and strive to make them happen. And how often does the work and energy given over to that, drain us of our peace and joy.

It was a good lesson to learn for me I think. The son popped into my office a couple of days later to say thank you.

He told me that Mom had died two hours after we had prayed.

“It meant a lot for me that you prayed with us. Something right and proper about sending her on her way to God with prayer.”