Susan LaffertyLight. I don’t truly consider its absence. Until one memorable experience. During middle school.
Our family is in America on stateside assignment at the time. And touring historic sites or natural wonders across several states.
Then, one day, we’re standing in a large cave.
Lights all around.
Until someone turns them off.
When Someday seems too far, the fragile heart mourns. Torn. Tender.
Walking in the weight of sorrow.
Sitting in the dark.
And we cry out for rocky paths made smooth. The broken place, whole. Strong winds and high waves, stilled.
Longing to affirm the true. And say we are crushed but not in despair.
Unfolding year before us. Already scheduled with best-laid plans that can so quickly come apart. Scatter.
The unexpected changes calendars. Disrupts orderly lives. Next steps.
A look back at the past year is case-in-point.
