And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year, “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied, “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light, and safer than the known way.”
M. Louise Haskins
“Trust does not require certainty.”
Richard Waganese
I have mixed feelings about a new year. Anticipation and excitement on one hand; anxiety, fear and trembling on the other. Which is why I fortify myself with quotes like these, which are pasted on my fridge. There’s not a lot of good news out there in the big real world so I try to concentrate on the good news that abounds in the community and neighborhood.
I was just old enough in the Blizzard of ’49 for it to mark me for life. Likely that’s where I developed a fear of snow snakes—you know, those swirls that blow across the road, a warning that you’ll soon be stuck, either in a drift or in the house, preferably the latter.
For a couple of days before Christmas I was on edge, watching the forecast and fretting about folks who planned travel for the holiday. Silly, I know. We had no such plan and I had no control over the minds of those who did. Still, worry is a mother’s job, you know. I’m learning to change the focus; kind of late in life, but better than never.
A couple of days ahead of the storm, we made a round trip run through the Sandhills to touch base with family. My youngest son made lunch for us while we made the acquaintance of his youngest grandson. Nothing cheers me up like a new baby, unless it was the gathering at the home of my oldest son on our next stop, where we had a good visit with his extended family including a great granddaughter who just turned 21. She celebrated, not in a bar, but with a trip to Omaha to view the light display at Henry Doorly Zoo. Make no mistake, there are still young people with level heads. On to the middle son’s home, where we got to see one of his daughters and family, which includes a toddler. More baby laughter.
Neighbors who are like family to us, came for a visit on Christmas morning. We spent a couple of hours catching up, opening gifts, and hearing about the activities of their high school and college age kids. The highlight of our day was when the young people grabbed a couple of Bruce’s guitars and gave us a concert. When snow and wind began that evening, we snuggled in and counted our blessings.
New Year’s is always quiet at our house. I spend it reflecting on the year past and writing a letter to God about the hopes and fears crowding my mind as the calendar turns. Reading last year’s letter, which I tuck away and hide from myself, I’m always amazed at how many hopes did come true and how many fears never happened. A new year holds no guarantees but trust doesn’t require certainty.
Meet me here next week and meanwhile, do your best. Somebody might like it.