A friend told me she relaxes by a nice smelling candle in the evening and often thinks of people she cares about but can’t be with right now. I thought that was a lovely idea, so now as I light candles to make my home cozy, I lift up the friends and family I’m missing. I whisper a prayer for medical workers and those who are sick. I imagine us all, standing somewhat alone, in the absence of each other and think it must make us a little weaker, a little flimsy.
I love the Bible verse where Matthew quotes Isaiah to say about Jesus, “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out…” These two objects are a picture of fragility. On their last legs, so to speak.
Do any of you feel that way? I do. The long haul has taken it’s toll and while we’d love to look no worse for the wear, we do. We have our up’s as well, doing remarkably given the circumstances, but there are always the circumstances, at least since March. A new set of circumstances that must be considered and alter most of our lives on a daily basis.
The long haul has taken it’s toll and while we’d love to look no worse for the wear, we do.
I want to acknowledge the mental space it requires to manage a pandemic. I want to say, I see you, to those who have hurt feelings in their family over different reactions to the pandemic. As more holidays near, we all draw our lines and take our stands, or don’t. It’s heartbreaking when Christmas has always been about coming together. No matter what side of the lines you find yourselves on, there’s an emotional price to pay.
And because our mind, heart and body are all connected, you may be feeling physical exhaustion. You may think you’re gradually falling apart! If so, I want to say that Jesus is the gentlest. He will not kick you when you’re down. He won’t write you off. When you’re in bad shape, the Godhead is attentively watching over you, monitoring each breath. They will watch over you always. And anyone you light a candle for, gets the same care.
