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My father-in-law died on January 6th, only a couple hours after the riot in the U.S. Capitol.
“This is just the latest episode of my personal life and the world at large blowing up at the same time,” I told a friend.
It felt like a theme by that point.
On May 22nd, my daughter was born, and my state entered Phase 2 of lockdown. I kissed her chubby cheeks and vowed that I would do anything to keep her safe.
Two days later, I was breathing a sigh of relief to be safely at home and away from germs when someone from the hospital called and told me that my daughter had a heart defect.
For months, I’ve tried to balance living through unprecedented events and loving my family through our own difficulties. While I do try to exercise caution and maintain some level of awareness of current events, I also try to put my efforts where they most matter: loving people in my orbit, and doing what I can to help in my sphere of influence.
I wish I could tie this post up with a nice little bow, but sometimes life doesn’t work like that. My daughter continues to be monitored for her heart defect. I’m still praying for it to heal on its own so we don’t have to do a cardiac catheterization.
The pandemic drags on. The rhythms of life go on. There are people being born and people dying.
Jesus is the same yesterday and today and forever.