A Holiday Blessing

As the holiday season constricts and contracts, may you find rest. 

This is easier said than done. The painful past, like pounding surf, constantly crashes up against our shorelines. Sigh… this is the way it is. I don’t deny such a reality; I’m only quick to add that the past also carries something else. I’ll name it (as if I know) beauty. 

Within each wave, there is beauty and pain, entropy and life. We live in the crash. We are the crash. We are the impact of past, potential, and agency crashing upon the shore of the present. And while I’m naming things, I’ll name all this (as if I know ) love. 

Life is wild–sometimes absurdly good, sometimes absurdly bad, but I still hold out hope for love––
not in its specific ending but in its specific faithfulness,
not in its singular reason but in the multiplicity of ways it helps us find reason,
not in its ultimate finality but in its irrepressible creativity.

Yes, may you rest in that. 

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.