All over a cup of tea….

Brendan came to the kitchen hatch in our community lounge. Our breakfast club was just finishing. "I need to see Gordon". Brendan is always in control. His voice commands action. An ex Royal Navy Captain he is used to pressure and not showing any signs. But there is something wrong. "Son I need you to come through here", I wander through with my cup of tea and we sit.

"You guys have found me!" I look quizzically as Brendan is a frequent visitor. "For 51 years I haven’t heard from my family and your missing persons unit has found me". Brendan doesn’t do emotion. His eyes well up. "My sisters wanted to find me and now they have". I didn’t know whether I should apologise or be enthusiastic. I shut up and let him continue. His voice drops to a mere whisper, I strain to hear… "my brother died two years ago…no-one told me…can you write to them for me and tell them I’m sorry…very sorry…tell them to write".

We chat further, I promise to write and to pray for him. His eyes red he looks up into my face and says "thanks" in that deep, Irish, gravely way that is Brendan’s. He finishes his tea. Stands up and goes with a patronising grip on my shoulder to let me know he is back in control.

So I sit here with a scrap of paper in my back pocket. Scribbled notes. A name; an address. Thinking of reconciliation. Thinking of the privilege of being available. Thinking of the wideness of missio dei and the narrowness of our understanding of it!!!

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