19 weeks.
The time between our clocks “falling back” to “springing ahead.”
19 weeks.
DARKNESS comes earlier and there is almost a collective “OH NO” heard in the air.
19 weeks.
The apprehension of depression looms large in the hearts of those who struggle already and general melancholy arises in those who don’t.
19 weeks.
The warning of COVID numbers and “a whole lot of hurt” to come sends us wanting to pull the covers over our heads and make it stop. STOP. STOP. STOP. As if the winter DARKNESS is not bad enough.
19 weeks.
The election and the fall out either way. Fear creeps into our minds and our stressed bodies are unable to hide it.
The “Holidays." Trepidation on how to navigate the risks and rewards of seeing family and friends makes this one of the most confusing seasons ever.
New Years. No watching the ball drop with Times Square revelers and the dread that 2021 won’t be the end of all that 2020 has brought to us.
MLK Day. The usual day of hope has an underpinning of tension as we understand that there is still SO much work to do.
Valentines Day. We wonder. Cute little candy hearts and cupids just don’t cut it anymore. There’s real pain out there. Real pain.
DARKNESS for sure. And not just the literal kind.
19 weeks.
A womb of sorts. A cocoon of sorts. A tomb of sorts.
The unknown and all the possible things that could go wrong. DARKNESS.
19 weeks.
But what happens IN the womb? The cocoon? The tomb?
Not after. Not when it’s over. Not when we see crocuses and robins and longer days.
But IN? IN the DARKNESS?
There is CREATION in the womb. Of a whole new life. There is TRANSFORMATION in the cocoon. Of a whole different being. There is REDEMPTION in the tomb. Of a whole only-God-can-do-this kind.
Gifts. Beautiful gifts. Gifts that could not come any other way.
19 weeks.
There will be DARKNESS for sure.
But there will also be HOPE.
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