On Christmas Day, I settled in for a (really) long winter’s nap. Nestled amongst a mess of quilts and the chirps of content children, I gave into those relentless dancing sugar-plums. Maybe I needed shuteye because of the big, sweet but loud elf putting together a Pop-a-Shot game until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe it was just a crash from my traditional homemade cinnamon rolls. Most likely, it was fever-induced. 2020 almost had to end in a Gaynor Covid-19 Quarantine. Or was it all a dream?
Like living inside a giant snow globe, I peered out my frosted window to the world that’s been shaken. With a contentious election, raging wildfires, economic concerns, an African dust storm, vaccination ethics, a flood of mental health implications, social unrest, educational disparities, murder hornets, and lest we forget the normal losses and scars of a year on Earth, some might say this year was a nightmare.
But I would disagree.
Rub those sleepy eyes. See that couples still entered matrimony, babies were born, children laughed and played outside, families prayed together, friends forgave, and peace treaties were even signed.
Dear friends, I would never negate the true suffering that occurred this year. Covid-19 knocked me on my tail. My heart breaks for my grandmother, locked down, alone, and confused in her nursing facility since March. But pain, poverty, hunger, sickness, it’s all a part of the very temporary, very fragile human condition… the condition God chose to enter as a helpless baby to save us from.
This year was different. Next year will have its own challenges. To quote Saint Mother Teresa, “Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”
Oh, the thrill of hope. A weary world rejoices!