What the heck happened to 2020?
This person right here is of the opinion that it was hijacked by aliens or imps or gremlins or worse.
Once upon a time I thought I would write…a blog maybe. It seemed within my skill set, and I had some ideas. I did just that for about a cosmic minute, and then 2020 happened, and my brain and all of my good intentions of a writing bent went elsewhere. If you see them anywhere, would you please direct them back to me? Oh wait…there they are.
For the record 2020 held some very good things, at least I’m sure it did, though nothing comes to mind at the moment. Let’s see…first full year of retirement for my husband…that’s good, right? He is a happy camper, pursuing things cerebral and mechanical and bucolic. I won’t elaborate just now, but he has stayed busy, and our little farm is the better for it.
Personally, 2020, with its forced semi-isolation gave me permission to embrace my introverted self and to hone my gardening, cooking, and canning skills. Our 2020 garden was quite productive for the most part, and I canned a good portion of that bounty. There was a weird time, no more than a few days, when I was in a frantic search for canning jar lids, but friends on social media came to the rescue, and hurrah…the hidden treasure of Amish stores supplied the rest. I tried some new delights, including lemon curd, various bean and ham soups, raspberry syrup, and purple hull peas. I discovered some new faces to virtually follow and have gained new insights in cooking, gardening, politics, and homesteading, as well as spiritual growth. I will always be grateful for things I learned in 2020.
While David and I have stayed healthy and avoided (so far) the COVID19 plague, we did lose some dear ones directly and indirectly to this scourge. I have struggled more than I want to admit with my emotions and outlook. I can’t remember a time when I have had so many long-term bouts of discouragement.
Our family suffered a devastating personal loss during the summer. Those painful ripples are still seen and felt, and I do not know how it all will end, or if it will ever end, or pretty much anything else; but even as I write these two sentences, I cannot do so without hope. Our loss is only one of many, many such losses in this year of tumultuous, surprising, unforeseen, and unique events. And…even as I write those words I realize that years of loss are nothing new in the history of this planet. Sometimes I lose sight of the big picture…the God picture. The picture where something bigger than me and my few years on earth is at work and is unfolding.
When I dry my eyes and see clearly the true things…strength and courage, beauty and goodness, peace and purpose…I must stay in the process. I must go on.
And, maybe…just maybe…I’ll do a bit of writing.
No promises, though…