One for Sorrow relates the story of the loss of 21-year-old Tom to cancer, and how his family lived through the aftermath. When Alan began writing the memoir, he believed it would be about his son’s illness and death. He soon realized, however, that he was recording his own painful journey through the ‘valley of the shadow’, as a father and as someone responsible for ministering to others in similar situations. His core beliefs were challenged and his perspective on life changed.
Now retired, Alan is passionate about the capacity we all have to grow through adversity and, like our crucified God, rise up from pain and death to live and love and laugh again.
Praise for the author’s Living
‘Quick! Go out and buy this book! If you are a vicar, buy a dozen, and give them away. If the Church were served by more books like this, we would all be the better.’Church Times
and An Almighty
‘With strong echoes of the BBC2 series Rev, this work too demonstrates in equal measure the struggles and rewards of faith . . . incredibly moving and authentic.’Life + Work
A valuable and candid memoir of the lived-in experience of bereavement and life beyond it. This book brought a new sense of perspective and gratitude.
For example, the concept of 'why not me' in Chapter 7 - excerpt below.
"If you live in the Global South you expect suffering as part of life: poverty, hunger, disease, untimely death, war. It is not that these things are less painful for those who live in extreme poverty, war zones or refugee camps, but there is often, in such situations, a solidarity of suffering that is seen as part of a normal life, accepted along with life's joys... ...Everyone suffers. The so-called 'normal life' includes tragic loss, family breakdown, childlessness, serious illness, domestic violence, redundancy, bankruptcy, mental illness, failure, disappointment, serious accident and a host of other painful, traumatic events. Yet, in the West, when suffering comes upon us, we often think it is an anomaly. Imagining we are the only ones, we ask: 'Why me?' Too often we find no solidarity in our suffering; rather, we find painful isolation. Vivien, however, does not ask: 'Why me?' but 'Why not me.' She, and others, bring us solidarity in our suffering."