I woke this morning to the thrum of my teacher’s voice in my brain echoing Julian of Norwich. "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well, for there is a Force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go." The only message I really ever need. Breathing into these words, I sense a little tear with the word trust on it welling in the corner of my eye. 

And speaking of tears.

It happened yesterday as it happens every year—the damn dam broke unleashing an uncontainable tsunami of Christmas tears. Behind it all wasn’t just one thing. Behind it all was every thing. Written on every tear was joy and gratitude for the bounty of blessings that surround me; nostalgia for Christmases past; grief for my life’s mounting list of lost lives, broken relationships, shattered expectations and aging bodies; concern for my grandchild, every child and a weary world, in general; inspiration and hope in the fluttering wings of churchy-child angels and the kindest of gestures that are everywhere; the hovering question of where my work in this changing world lies; apprehension for any and all looming calamities; empathy for all the suffering and an impenetrable sense of loneliness with it all. 

Recent Decembers have been, hmm, challenging to say the least. We have lost multiple loved ones, there have been several basement floods, two ER visits, a 911 call and a few Covid-infected Christmases. The class optimist in me that loves Christmas (and starts itching for it in late August) has grown distrustful of the whole shebang. It would seem that the twelfth month named after the tenth month barely trusts itself. My breath seizes simply thinking about it all.

And, yet….

If ever there is a story about trust, it is the Bethlehem story I was raised on. A holy Middle-eastern family, fleeing political persecution and delivering the Holiest of children into a world of scarcity and uncertainty. As I lean into the sanctity of the scenario, I can hear it. “Silent Night, Holy Night.  All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well, for there is a Force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go.” For a fleeting moment, my breath returns deep and slow. Amen. I’ll take the fleeting moment. May it lead to another.

I know that my Jewish friends hear this message of trust in their beautiful Hannukah story as do my friends from all the great religions and philosophies of the world in their revered stories as well.

Trust.

Let this day (and every day) be what it will be and trust that you can (and will) handle it. And when you are overwhelmed with the magnitude of it all, trust that you are being held by Something greater Whose only name is Love and Who will never let you, me or anyone go.

May the words of Julian of Norwich comfort you today as they have comforted me. Daily bread, indeed.

Much love, Crystal

PS In the interest of (me) taking an extended social media break, please consider subscribing to this website if you wish to receive future blogs and please consider sharing on your forums. Thank you~