New Years Week

 

Roasting s’mores around a campfire.  That is one moment that warms my heart and stirs my soul from this past year.  I’ll explain.  Our family had rented a cabin in a small town in Georgia.  We needed to get our kids out of their bedrooms, we needed to stop staring at the same four walls, we needed a change of pace and to breathe some different air.  We had been searching for somewhere we felt safe to get away.  Finally, we stumbled across this cabin with several hiking trails at nearby state parks softly whispering our names.  The cabin had a pool table, foosball, an indoor basketball hoop, and a firepit outside.  It felt like we were taking a leap of faith to leave what was known behind and venture out at a time when an invisible virus could be lurking anywhere.   But, our mental health said we needed to get away from the heat and humidity and feeling cooped up inside.

We went.  We had a blast.  We laughed.  We played games.  We went tubing down a river.  We reset our souls with relaxation in a year when stress and strain and change had been the only tune we were dancing to.  And, of course, we roasted and ate s’mores around a campfire.

2020 has taught me the lesson that I am not as in charge or in control as I like to think.  There are many things beyond my ability that I cannot snap my fingers and change.  No matter how tightly I grasp or cling, there are many things that are like sand and will slip through my fingers.  I cannot change someone else.  I cannot stop people from hurting each other with words or actions.  I cannot magically wave a wand so that everyone is vaccinated. 

At the same time, I do have responsibility for my response, that is what I can control.  I can acknowledge the joy and anger and fear and hope that stir within me.  I can be curious about why I am feeling this way or doing that action.  I can listen to my own life.  There is no separation between your spiritual life and your actual life.  God doesn’t just show up on Sunday mornings at the prescribed hour you prefer to worship.  God shows up disguised as your own life, every day.  And somethings even in that person who pushes all your buttons!  To listen both to the moments of joy; to accept what we can change and what we cannot and the wisdom to know the difference; and to realize that this year will continue to leave a lingering impression that will last long beyond putting a new calendar up this Friday.  There is both gratitude and grief in this year – both can be our teachers.

Prayer: God keep showing up disguised as my life today.  Amen.