C.S. Lewis said, “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

A week before Christmas my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. It turned out to be a rare and aggressive form of the disease: metaplastic carcinoma. Two days later, on the 19th, we received an early morning phone call informing us that Paul's brother George had died of a massive heart attack during the night. We immediately drove the 350 miles to be with family, to help make arrangements, to do what could be done, which was very little. On the 22nd, we came home to celebrate Christmas with the kids, which "came just the same". We really were like the Whos in Whoville this year, "heart to heart and hand in hand". Nothing can steal that joy.

On the 26th two of the kids came down with fevers, body aches and sore throats, but Paul and I had to drive back to upstate New York for his brother's funeral. On the 28th, everyone at home was sick and there was a winter storm on the way. I told Paul to stay in New York. I got in the car and drove home at 4pm after the funeral--it was already dark and the first snowflakes had begun to fall. I raced the storm the entire way and made it home by 9pm just before the snow and ice. Since then, I've run my sick kids back and forth to the doctors, picked up prescriptions and supplies, and managed my daughters' paper routes. Some of the kids have a virus, some have strep, and some have both. This afternoon, while I was out delivering newspapers, Amy fell down the stairs and injured her bad leg. It's been a tough couple of weeks.

Actually months.

No, the whole year.

I know that time is a spiraling continuum with no real starting or stopping point. But God, I need this year to end. I really do.

All I want from 2016 is for something good to happen.

But, this morning I read these words from Elizabeth Leseur (†1914) and felt myself strangely warmed and thoroughly terrified: 
I offer the year that is over and the one to come with a grateful heart. I consecrate myself to God and accept in advance all that he wants of me, through me, or for me; joy or sorrow, health or illness, poverty or riches, and life or death, according to what will be for the greatest good of others and the Church. For myself I ask one thing: let me love you, without joy or comfort if need be, and use me for the spreading of your Kingdom, Jesus my Savior. 

For me, that Love is all there is.
And so I say, amen. Amen to another day, another year, another moment to Love no matter the cost.