A year. It’s been a year since we knew the virus was in our state.
It’s been a year since worry started, since responses started.
We’re looking back and many of us are having a hard time.
We are remembering just how we felt when we first heard, when we first saw, when we first knew that things were going to be very different.
We cry, some of us.
We get angry, some of us.
We don’t understand, some of us.
I cannot ask you to explain why half a million more people died this year than average, in our country alone. We can, of course, ask you. But I’m not sure that we really want an answer, or that we would find it any more satisfying than when we ask you to explain why one person that we loved died.
Because this week, and last week, and next week, and last month, and next month, people that we know and love will die and not die, will get sick and get well, will have good news that turns out to be hard, and hard news that turns out to be good, will long for you. And we won’t exactly understand or be satisfied with most of those stories.
We read Paul say that your good news is foolishness to some and an obstacle to others and often, we feel like he’s right.
You are aware of how we feel and what we think.
You are aware of our questions.
You are aware of our grief.
Please help us comfort and be comforted in our memories and by your presence.
We ask, through Christ our Lord,
Later this month, I’ll have a collection of prayers and writings from last year. This is one of those prayers.