It was early Wednesday. That first one.

A pretty ball dropped. Spirits soared. And with our annual dose of optimism, we began a new lap around the track.
And never saw it coming.

A slow-motion earthquake. Or is it earth quake?

What happens when agendas flee? And routines convulse? And the control that motivates us, mocks us?
What happens when the absurd hypothetical is lived?
We now know. Or is it are knowing?

We’ve felt. So much.
Yet amidst the tired feelings, glimmers of hope.

What really matters we understand better. And to the more permanent we’ve given priority.
Covered mouths have frustrated our ears. But leaning in, we listen. A distanced intimacy. Ironic and good.
Our calendar has died. We’ve lost hurry. And found time. And a home. And family. And neighbors.
We’ve discovered what normal had sedated. That loneliness hurts. And depression is real. But so is kindness. And friendship. And simplicity.
Time is better invested than spent. We get that more. And do that more.
And amidst the agonizing pain of subtraction, our blessings we still count.

We don’t know a lot about what’s ahead. There, is still out there.
But uncertainty and perspective aren’t enemies. In fact, they sometimes walk together. Like right now.
And they bring an awareness that confidence isn’t dead.
We still know some things.
That life is precious.
That loved ones are too.
And that tested faith is a strong faith. And it remains. In the power of genuine love, and authentic goodness, and a God defined by both.

We’ve made it.
Not to the end. But to this end.
And to the beginning.

Twenty twenty won.
No.
Twenty twenty-one.
Yes.

Let’s go forward.