Dreary English mornings are probably redundant words. The sky’s grayness combined with a light mist automatically means that the moss growing on the brick driveway will continue to strengthen its grip. While the wind blows in yet another storm and the cold permeates the layers I am gathered for protection, I wonder how I am going to muster the courage and strength to tackle the day with hope.
Ironically it is easy to be cynical. The attitudes played out yet again in the darkness of the night speak of indulgence, loneliness, and desperation. The lingering statistic from Christmas is that only three percent of the country attends church with any regularity and I don’t even want to know the percentage of the percentage that actually believe in place that they attend. People see God as being so far away from being relevant I wonder how they even know Divinity exists. “In the last days there will be people who don't take these things seriously anymore. They'll treat them like a joke, and make a religion of their own whims and lusts.” (Jude 1.18) Nothing is sacred, little remains of tradition, and those who defend it most often model it the least.
Yet with the coming light there is hope. While others languish I watch cyclist enjoying a ride out on the roads. I catch a glimpse of a couple walking their dog while Cherry is navigating Mollie to avoid the interaction (if you knew Mollie this would make sense). I find kids treasuring a visit to Starbucks, enjoying old fashioned conversation and warm smiles that automatically come along. If you muster the courage to look again at what people most long for you find it all centers around relationship, community, and unconditionally acceptance. Some wrap this all up in “love” but I often think that we understand love with more completeness and accuracy when we revel in the details.
Some see nothing in the English dawn; I find opportunity and with this hope. We, you and I, can make a difference to the people around us.