It's a messy world out there these days, with more reasons to be down than up. On top of that, winter has outstayed its welcome. We're running out of Pollyanna phrases to cheer ourselves.
I've reserved a few statements of last resort, but since they're forecasting snow as I write this, I'm saving them. If I have to drag out the snow shovel once more, and I likely will, I'll need the positive words I've squirreled away under my cerebral mattress.
It doesn't help that I'm typing this week's column in my basement, where the sun doesn't shine.
Over my years of exploring the sunny side of life in these columns, I've only had a few times like this. Days when I sit in the shadow of some sort of corporate dishevelment of spirit. Entire nations and communities stunned by acts of senseless terror, profound stupidity or a foiled plot to commit horrific tragedy far too close to home.
In times like these, I, like most of you, need words of reassurance and comfort, hope and strength. A reminder that, no, God hasn't given this terrestrial ball a flick of his divine finger and sent us spinning into oblivion.
What we need is a faith-lift.
"Dad," I said, careless of the fact that my old father doesn't need more to worry about, now that his own health is failing badly. "Dad, I hate what's happening in the world. In our country. It keeps me awake at night."
He almost choked. "Kathleen! Don't you think God knows about all that bad stuff? You know everything will work out in the end. Just keep on trusting him and doing what's right."
He didn't stop with that mini-sermon. He went on to quote the Bible - book, chapter, and verse. He can't name the fruit on his plate sometimes, but he remembers what his favourite book says. And so he should. For ninety years, the author has held him steady.
Then, last night, our son called. I love his calls. This one was particularly upbeat. Full of joy. Lots of new in his life. We talked a long time. Then, with one sentence, I changed the entire tone of the conversation. "Hey, there's a lot of awful stuff going on in the world right now, isn't there?"
Long pause. "Yeah, but Mom, there's still a lot of wonderful stuff going on, too. Don't forget that."
I pray. Read my bible. Love it, trust its author, like Dad. But sometimes, just sometimes, we all need someone with skin on to give us a nudge to look past the winter, the bad news and the fear of more.
That's what I got. Two comments. Two oars. My faith-lift. I pray to keep it. One small decision may help me do that - humming "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" just before falling asleep.
After I finish reading the news on my tablet.
