On Saturday, October 3, 2026, at 10.02am, we received the following e-mail:

“Dear Church Family,

Please be in prayer for Tommy and Kayla Farquhar. Tommy is a pilot for an air ambulance company. Contact was lost with the flight he was piloting from Bermuda to Boston around Nantucket Island. The US Coast Guard is conducting search and rescue operations. There were five other people on board. Pray all will be found safe and returned to their loved ones. Pray for Kayla as she awaits news about what is happening.

The family has requested that we not share this request beyond the prayer circle or on social media.

In His Service,

Pastor Andrew”

That message would truly be life-changing in the coming hours and days. I was shocked and horrified. Immediately, I wanted to phone my mother, but out of respect for the message, I refrained. My Bermudian-born mother lived in Simcoe, a nearby town in Ontario, Canada, and we were happy and excited that she would be visiting our church tomorrow. Afterwards, we would be heading to a favourite local restaurant to celebrate her 88th birthday.

I earnestly tried to keep my mind focused on her birthday celebration, but I found myself constantly checking the online news, praying 24/7, and hoping that there was some mistake and that what I had read in that prayer chain request was not true. My husband and I were in disbelief.

We had known Tommy and his wife for less than a year. They were both pilots with the same company. They were talented, young, vibrant and intelligent individuals. They had their whole incredible lives in front of them. Tommy was a tall, handsome Christian young man who loved his wife dearly. Tommy and Kayla’s first wedding anniversary was within the coming days. My heart broke for Kayla, her family, Tommy’s parents and all of their family and close friends.

I received another e-mail, and my mind snapped back to the present. My mother sent me a picture of the wonderful fruit and cheese birthday basket that her dear Bermudian friends had sent her for her birthday. I phoned her to comment on the picture, but when she answered, I wasn’t prepared for the conversation.

She started by discussing how grateful she was for the thoughtful fruit basket and gifts that she had already received, but then she swiftly changed the topic. She shared that her church was in mourning. Her church had a connection to this situation and had been alerted to the news. They were shocked! They were praying.

We continued to discuss how grieved we were for Tommy’s family and for the Bermudians on board the plane and their families. So much pain for so many.

I had forgotten that her church was also connected to this situation, which I refused to call a tragedy. I refused to believe that their lives might be lost. These were professional, experienced and competent pilots. There was still a glimmer of hope that they could all be found alive.

Next, I needed to call my daughter, who lived just down the road in Scotland, Ontario. I knew that she was a part of the church prayer chain and that she would have seen the e-mail. I could only imagine how upset she and her husband would be. They attended a Bible study with Tommy and Kayla and the other young people in their late twenties and thirties.

My daughter and her friends were hurting, grieving, but holding out hope. Surely Tommy, the rest of the crew and the passengers were somewhere in a lifeboat and would be found.

As the hours passed, I was thankful that no one had called me from Bermuda. I did not personally know the Bermudians on the lost flight, and yet I felt as though I did. It was Bermuda. If one mourns, we all mourn.

By Sunday morning, I felt that I needed to do something. Anything. I sent a WhatsApp message to my cousin in Bermuda:

“I hope you are well. I am heading to our church now, and Mom is meeting us there. Today is her 88th birthday. We will celebrate Mom today, but our hearts are also hurting as we personally know the pilot who was flying the medical transport plane that went down with Bermudians on board. I know that things look bleak, but if any Bermudians are searching nearby islands in boats, please let me know if you hear anything beyond what is being reported in the regular news. Thanks.”

I scurried out the door for church. At church, I was greeted by my wonderful mother. Although there were kind greetings and a sense of thankfulness at being together with our family at church, there was a heaviness in the building.

When it came time for our pastor to head to the pulpit, the singing turned to stillness. With tears and sorrow, he announced that Kayla had notified him that there were likely no survivors from the plane crash. The congregation wept.

After some time, Pastor Andrew had us turn to Psalm 37. It was a difficult sermon for him to preach and for us to hear, but we needed it.

Verse 1: “Do not fret …”

Verse 3: “Trust in the Lord and do good …”

Verse 34: “Hope in the Lord …”

Verse 39: “The salvation of the righteous comes from the Lord; he is their stronghold in time of trouble.”

Verse 40: “The Lord helps them and delivers them; he delivers them from the wicked and saves them, because they take refuge in him.”

The last verses were difficult, but then the pastor explained that Tommy knew the Lord and that we knew he was in heaven. We could sorrow, but we did not have to end in complete despair. He informed the congregation that the scheduled evening prayer meeting and gratitude time would be changed to a special prayer meeting for Kayla, Bermuda and all who were mourning.

After church and a lovely celebration for my mother, I returned home. I opened my computer and went to The Royal Gazette. I read the missing plane story again, but this time, I read the comments and added my own. Bermudians were hurting, and I wanted them to know that in Canada we were praying for them and that we cared.

Days later, I would learn that my other cousin went to school with Marilyn Lavonne Bean, and yet another of my cousins knew Sergio Wayne Lottimore. Again, the tears would flow as I contemplated the loss of these precious lives and the impact of this tragedy that was felt by all. Prayers for all gushed from my heart.

In the evening, on Sunday, October 4, I attended prayer meeting. We had a much larger group than normal, and together we grieved. We prayed for a young bride who was devastated. We prayed for the aviation company and their great loss. We prayed for the Bermudians who would no longer get to call that beautiful island their home.

We read Psalm 88, which is considered the saddest Psalm, followed by a mention that in Psalm 89, things get brighter. No one has to pretend to be fine. You can and should mourn. We prayed for all who have been touched by this loss, and we left with the deep knowledge that we are stronger when we care for one another, when we truly love our neighbour, and when we ask Jesus for help.

Only He can carry our heartaches and heal us. For all who are suffering today, may you find peace. Someone is praying for you.