Once again, the world is experiencing a pandemic. Only this time it’s our turn to encounter travel bans, cancelled events, stockpiling, and waves of uncertainty.
The response has been quite diverse. Some are waking up to a reality that has been looming for months. Others are running a “do not fear” campaign exhorting those who are anxious. Still, some are promoting conspiracy theories, dismissing preventative action, or downplaying Covid-19 as “just the flu”.
But for my family the threat is very real. I am one of those in the “at risk” category. As one who is immunocompromised, my actions could literally be the difference between health and hospitalization.
It’s impossible. It will never happen. I’m too broken.
If your holiday season feels like this, you’re not alone. In fact, this was the prequel to Christmas; it’s how the story began.
Before Mary and Joseph, there lived another couple in the hills of Judah- often overlooked yet just as significant.
The sun dipped below the horizon as the swelling crowds pressed in for a better view. We mingled with millions of other sweaty patriots armed in liberty foam hats, waving flags, and guzzling slurpees. Media cameras were posed. Famous news anchors reported a few yards away.
We had waited all day for this.
Many of us put on a good face, but in truth we’re broken and bleeding all over the place. Behind our smiles we battle sadness, insecurity, fear, guilt, mom-shame, negative thoughts, and overcommitment. We feel unloved, unfit, undervalued, and unknown.
How do we cope with all this negativity? Self-love could be the cure.
Or so we’re told.
It started out as a normal summer day and we couldn’t have been more thrilled. Hubs and I had just purchased our very first home. And it was yellow. I had prayed for yellow. Moving day was set, our boxes packed. We were moving right along with our list of goals: New house, check. Jobs, check. Furniture, check. Search for a dog, check. Our future was looking bright.
And then it happened. Something didn’t feel quite right. My energy started to fail and I found myself getting easily fatigued. Over the next few weeks my knees began to swell until they became the size of cantaloupes. As the swelling increased, the pain grew. It hurt to walk, it hurt to stand, it hurt to move.
I spent my 30th birthday and a good part of that year battling a crippling disease. Instead of gracefully waltzing into a new decade, I hobbled my way through. Within two weeks of our move I became confined to our couch, utterly fatigued without even enough energy to make myself a sandwich. Even hobbling across the floor to the bathroom became a tremendous feat. My body was rapidly breaking down before my very eyes and there was nothing I could do about it.
It wasn’t until I moved north that Fall took on a whole new meaning. The charming season now warms a special place in my heart. The very word conjures up memories of apple picking, pumpkin carving, hot cider, and the delicious aroma of Grandma’s pie baking in the oven!
Every year I look forward to pulling out my weathered box from its nestled place in the basement, rediscovering the rustic decor that will soon adorn my home. This year, as I sat down to admire my handiwork, my eye caught a glimpse of the trees out back. Tall and proud, they line the yard with their fiery blaze of reds, oranges, and yellows announcing that summer is officially gone and winter is sure to come.
Soaking in the moment, I was suddenly struck by the irony of it all. The very leaves I admire are actually dying before my very eyes. The thought was slightly disturbing and fascinating all at the same time.
How could death be so beautiful?
A recent shift in American culture has now made it more appealing to be single. In fact, there are now slightly more people staying single than getting married. But for those of you still searching for your soul mate, this post is for you.
While the waiting game can be long and tedious, it’s important to have realistic expectationsabout what you’re waiting for. I feel many are searching for their soul mate and dreaming of their fairy tale wedding without a real understanding of what marriage entails.
So for all my single friends out there, keep this advice in mind when you’re searching for Mr. Right:
1. Marriage is a blessing, not the blessing. There is a difference. Getting married and having a family is not the universal Plan A and those who miss out on it are somehow fated to live out Plan B. God’s plan for each person is unique and one shoe does not fit all. We were all single at one time and some will choose to stay that way. And that’s not a bad thing.
As this bitter campaign narrows to a close, I for one am ready for it to end.
For months, many have used social media to fight for the cause leaving the rest of us feeling like collateral damage. Facebook makes me apprehensive with its onslaught of endless debates.
Fear and anxiety run rampant across the country. Americans remain divided and distraught over the options for commander in chief. Many believe the future of our country (along with our rights and liberties) may very well be at stake.