I feel a bit unhinged, alone in the kitchen tonight. Young folks all out on this last day of a broken year and Frank upstairs resting, with a cold, not covid.
It’s surreal and I wonder if when I open the front door tomorrow morning, the world as I know it will still be there. Or perhaps it left a while ago.
Tonight it feels cold. A chill wanders the streets, seeping through the soul of our land, reaching its icy fingers into our unsure hearts.
There is this isolation. This gripping fear grasping at our throats. What’s to come as we bid adieu to the old and dare to crack the door of tomorrow open? No one knows. We’re living in times not seen by most any of us alive now.
As I pause, there’s this Flame. This palpable Love. This understanding that I’m seen and known. And held. It banks a fire of courage and wraps me in a surety that whatever comes… I’m not alone.
There’s this Joy!
This brightness that throws back the dark and melts the coldest ice.
“Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace always in every way. The Lord be with you all.” (2Thessalonians 3:16)