Journal Entry, 2 January 2022

 

Sunday. 11am. Cold and a bit snowy.

When I woke this morning under a pile of blankets the house was cold enough to see your breath, which isn’t uncommon this time of year. Rather than light the wood stove—which takes some effort, and which I’ll do later—I used a small wall-mounted gas blue flame heater to take the chill of the living room. There’s also a small electric heater under my desk, and I turned on a burner to the stove while I made coffee. After coffee I cautiously rode the electric bike to a coffee shop, where I am writing these words. I rode cautiously (i.e., slowly) because I am not yet acclimated to winter riding with the electric bike and despite its extra wide tires they do not offer good traction.

A couple days ago as they year came to an end I put together a simple collage of some of the people I’ve spoken to and photographed during 2021. When I look at the images I remember not only making each photograph but also the conversations we had. And looking at the images now I see all of us as God’s children trying to make it in this world the best we can.

Last evening I stopped out for a couple beers, and in the course of conversation someone told me that I was naive for believing everything was going to be okay no matter what. I don’t necessarily consider myself an optimist (my ex-wife thought me to be a pessimist) but more of a realist. I truly do believe that everything will be okay no matter what happens. It has taken me a long time to get to this place. This, I suppose is hope, for without hope what are we left with?

“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” ~ Hebrews 11:1