I write in my journal every day.
Actually I'm keeping four journals these days - so I'm journaling a whole lot.
I write papers for school.
I write old fashioned snail mail notes and put them in the mailbox outside the church, with my fingers crossed, hoping they will reach their intended destination.
I write sermons for church.
I write prayers and liturgy for church as well.
I even write posts for the church blog.
I write there about life and death, about community and parades, and about gratitude and hope.
Hope is an unrelenting theme for me, especially in these past few weeks and months. There are too many stories of despair, loss, suicide, sorrow, and suffering to bear. My mind and my heart cling to hope. Let there be hope; no matter what, let there be hope.
So it's not that I'm not writing.
It's just that I haven't been writing here.
I confess that most evenings, I am exhausted.
My brain is tired, and so are my fingers.
The story of my life journey, adventures I've taken of late, inner and outer adventures remain on the pages of my journals, and never migrate here to the blog.
Some of you have reached out to ask if I'm okay,
if my family is okay,
if all is well.
I am doing better than okay.
I am less than six months away from graduating from seminary.
It's hard to believe that I've been in seminary for almost five years.
I have passed the five ordination exams that are required by the denomination.
So the hardest part of this process is behind me.
Thanks be to God.
I have fallen deeper in love with my life than I had been for a long time.
Friendships are more precious - to sit and talk over a cup of tea, to talk on the phone with a beloved one who lives half a country away, to message through WhatsApp with friends who live oceans and continents away, to do a journal exchange with another creative soul sister - truly priceless.
Just the two of us.
Bike rides. Staring at the water.
Reading. Conversation. Sunshine.
Getting caught in the rain - having to ride our bikes back to our condo in a downpour.
On two consecutive days.
It was glorious.
I've been up in the mountains as well. Three times this past summer.
I met Valarie Kaur in August. She is beyond inspirational. Beyond!
And I'll head back up there three times in the new year - to speak, lead, teach, and participate at various conferences and seminars.
Life is pretty good.
And it also sucks sometimes.
Illness struck our family again.
Hospitalization. Twice.
Finding new doctors and specialists.
We are on the way to recovery and stability, but it's hard.
So very hard.
Our hearts break over and over.
Our stamina is tested.
Our hope is strained.
I cry myself to sleep.
I cry out and plead for mercy.
This life thing... it is no joke.
But still. But still.
There is so much to be grateful for.
I have learned and grown.
I have yearned and groaned.
I have laughed out loud and cursed under my breath.
All the feels.
All the things.
And as Dr Angelou write years ago - and still I rise.
With hope and strength.
Never giving up or giving in.
Nevertheless we persist.
I persist.
Hope persists.
I simply don't have a choice.
And if there is a choice other than holding on to hope for dear life, I don't even want to know what it is.
Tell me - what do you cling to these days?
What are you holding on to for dear life?
What joyful, life-affirming choices are you making over and over?
