In August of 2006, Wendy Avery returned to her Ohio home, feeling as if she was trying to jump back onto a spinning merry-go-round. For an entire year, her world had stopped, but everyone else’s kept spinning. How does one simply hop back on? How does one rejoin the dance when the music has been muted?
To be surprised by grace, as seasons blur together, as monotony defines our days, as boredom tests our worth, is to open our hearts to the beauty gifted to us, divinely designed to be seen and savored, experienced and enjoyed, residing in little moments we usually allow to pass without acknowledgment, auto-pilot of the soul.
On the brink of election season, it already feels like the tension in our country has reached a peak unparalleled in my lifetime. This pandemic has had a way of exposing what is already true regarding some of the brokenness within our systems and certainly within our social fabric. In the isolation of quarantine, stillness and solitude have perhaps created space for healing.
You’ve probably heard the phrase “Doubting Thomas.” The phrase’s origins hearken back to John’s Gospel, where, after Christ’s resurrection, Jesus’s disciples say to Thomas, “We have seen the Lord,” to which Thomas responds, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”