Last year not long after the election, we bought a faux birch tree with lights on it.
We brought it home and put it on the wide window ledge in our kitchen/dining room and plugged it in and admired it.
We never turned it off again.
Day and night, winter and spring and summer and fall, we have been waking up to the lights on that tree and coming home to the lights on that tree and eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner by the lights on that tree. It has been in the background of innumerable photographs; right now our ginger cat is sitting under it with his paw in the water dish.
Yet it has never become something we don’t notice.
As night impinges on day in these dwindling weeks before the Solstice, the little tree reminds us that even in a sad and terrible world, in a devastating political and cultural season, glimmers of goodness exist and there are means to defy the despair evil wants us to feel. By the lights on the little tree, we will call our representatives, and make donations to religious and civic organizations doing good work, and wrap packages and write cards for people we love, and play games and read books and hold hands and pray with them, too.
We will kiss, and we will cry, and we will rage and prepare to burn the whole thing down, and we will refill the cat’s water dish.
Jesus told the disciples that no one but God knows when the hour and the day will come.
In the meantime, I’m not sure what else any of us can do but stay awake and be ready for the moment when something we do or say can make a difference.