What a brutal time it is for so many people. The world, really.
I’m thinking of all the aged photos I saw on Instagram in the past month, young versions of friends next to parents and grandparents, just before the caption confirms it’s a loved one lost too soon.
I’ve been having a really hard time being blindsided with my own deep loss of a friend. Then there’s the ongoing lockdown, the attack on elders, and the challenge of pandemic parenthood. It’s a lot.
“There’s no way to have cohesive stories unless we embrace all of it: the good, the hard, the bittersweet, the joyful, the lonely, and the painful. It all counts! If we know something else to be true, it’s this: God is a keeper and curator of stories.”
–Aundi Kolber
Here’s one thing I’ve seen up close:
People reaching out, even in the most basic and simple ways, always matters. It always counts for much more than we give it credit for. To those who’ve offered that to me, my family, and community, I only have the sincerest thanks. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when you can’t “save the world,” but that shouldn’t make you overlook the more human-sized task of showing up. To the people around you. To the gift of life. To the story of how we’re connected.
It’s a gift to be here. There’s plenty of bad to resist, there are many wounds to heal, and there are many good things to savor. And there’s no need to do this alone.