Dear Lord,
We thank You for this season of departure, when the suitcases are dragged from the loft and the satnav is dusted off. Thank You for the excitement that fills the house on the morning of a journey. For the smell of sunscreen and the rustle of maps. For the arguments about which route to take, and the laughter that follows them. These are the small rituals of holiday, and they are holy in their own way.
We pray for all who take to the roads this July. For the families heading to the coast, the couples seeking a quiet retreat, the lone wanderer who needs only a change of sky. Be with them on the motorway and the B-road, on the ferry and the country lane. Keep their tyres true and their brakes firm. Let them arrive at their destination with nothing more eventful than a good story to tell.
We pray for the young drivers, setting out on their first holiday without parents. Give them steady hands and clear eyes. Let them resist the temptation of speed, and remember that the road is shared with others—with cyclists, with horse riders, with the farmer moving his combine slowly from field to field. Let them arrive not just safely, but wisely.
We pray for the caravanners and the camper-vanners, those patient souls who tow their homes behind them. Bless their mirrors and their hitches. Let the lay-bys be welcoming and the campsites level. Let the kettle boil and the awning stay pegged in the wind. And let them find in their temporary home the same peace they leave behind.
We pray for the cyclists who brave the summer lanes, their legs burning and their hearts full. Protect them from careless drivers and sudden showers. Let the hedgerows offer them shade, and let the pub at the top of the hill be open and welcoming.
We pray for the walkers, who leave the car behind and set out on foot, following footpaths and bridleways that have been trodden for centuries. Watch over them on the open moor and in the deep woods. Let their boots stay dry and their maps stay clear. And if they lose their way, let them find it again with good cheer.
We pray for the ferry passengers and the channel crossers, who entrust themselves to the sea. Keep the winds gentle and the waves kind. Let the children not be seasick, and let the dogs settle in their baskets. Bring them safe to the other shore, and let them step onto foreign soil with wonder and with gratitude.
We pray for those who are not travelling at all—for the elderly, the infirm, those who cannot leave their homes or their beds. Send the holiday to them instead. Let a grandchild visit. Let a friend bring flowers. Let the sound of laughter drift through their open window, and let them know they are not forgotten.
We pray for those whose holidays are not happy. For the marriages that crack under the pressure of too much closeness. For the children who are bored and restless. For the expectations that are too high and the weather that lets them down. Be with them, Lord. Let a sudden rainbow, a chance kindness, a moment of unexpected grace, turn their disappointment into something better.
And finally, Lord, we pray for the journey home. For the heavy traffic and the tired children. For the last-minute gifts that do not fit in the boot. For the sense of loss that comes with leaving a place we have come to love. Bring us all safely back to our own front doors, to our own gardens, to the familiar creak of our own stairs. And let us kiss the doorstep, as the old pilgrims used to do, and thank You for the mercy of arrival.
Bless our comings and our goings, Lord. From the driveway to the motorway to the final turn into home. Let us travel in Your care, and let us rest in Your peace.
Amen.