What I thought was a pretty solid values system hammered out after the atrocities of two world wars and the civil rights/women's rights/LGBT rights movements of the past fifty years appears to have evaporated.
People shouting in praise God and Jesus and the literal interpretation of the Bible are also shouting in hatred against the poor, the stranger, clean air, food, and water, and the basic health, education, and well-being of fellow human beings. Excuse my scepticism of your personal understanding of living the way of Christ.
Every morning I wake up determined to make the day positive, light-filled. I pledge not to let anything rattle me. Shun the news. Keep things on the sunny side. But it doesn't take long before some word of an unbelievable injustice seeps through an email or phone call or, yes, a social media post, and then my sweetness-and-light plan evaporates.
Despite my stuck-ness, I manage to put up a good front. I get work done. Have a few laughs. Take walks. Read. Plan and carry out stuff. Manage to keep my home clean and stocked with food. But something still has hold of an arm or a leg and keeps me from moving forward, outward, onward.
The only truly unstuck time is when I'm with Liam and Charlotte. They make me laugh and look at things in new, fresh ways. They ask impossible questions with impossible answers. We get messy and tired and artsy and silly together. There's no time to be stuck if really in the moment with funny little kids.
Folks remind me that love will win in the end, and, yes, I believe that. But in the meantime . . . what? How much damage gets done, how many lives lost and broken in the meantime, before love finally shows up?
So here I am. Stuck.