As much as we’d like to believe otherwise, as much as we try to avoid it, old age creeps up and sooner or later death will have the last word. It’s the final, unavoidable destination for all of us. What if we could place ourselves there in our minds, and look back to the present? From that vantage point, what matters? What would change in our calendars? In the choices we make today?

Aristotle, Albert Einstein, and Don Henley have all said it: The more I know, the less I realize I know. We can research, brainstorm, strategize ... We can imitate and seek the counsel of the wisest people. All the best choices we can make to propel us to success bring no guarantees — because ultimately the future is out of our hands. How do we allow the uncertainty of the future to inform the now?

Nothing new under the sun ... Life has its rhythms, our time organized into days, weeks, seasons — which, for the most part, repeat again and again. Comforting, perhaps, and often satisfying ... But we find ourselves wondering, “Is this all?” Why? In the midst of the secure, the predictable, the visible, why do we wish we could rise above? Why do we long for more?

Disruption can mean new perspective. Floating between the “once-normal” and the “yet-to-be-determined normal” can allow us moments to consider the repetitive yet elusive nature of our lives ... How impossible it is to hold on to the moment — even to life itself. What if we could work backwards from the end — could allow the certainty of our mortality to inform how we live?

We wait. We hope. We strain our eyes to see the future we desperately need coming around the corner. Because once we’ve done all we know to do, once we’ve exhausted all our human resources, we have no choice but to acknowledge that all of our self-sufficiency is, well, insufficient. It doesn’t mean there’s no hope. It just means ... we wait.

We’ve weathered storms before. We’ve had rough patches that have left us feeling beaten up and forgotten. As long as there’s a pinhole of light at the end of the tunnel, a glimpse of hope, we can hang on. But what if the light is nowhere to be seen, the hope nowhere to be found? When the darkness closes in ... Is there a way to light our candle and take the next step? Is there hope?

*This weekend’s online gathering will include celebrating communion together ... Grab some juice and bread or crackers — whatever you have on hand — as you join us!

We’re way past inconvenience. Way past re-scheduling the next haircut or those postponed dinner or vacation plans. Every day takes us deeper into isolation, worry, grief. How long can we look for the silver lining? How long before relief comes? We try to keep our chin up, keep it positive, keep on keeping on ... But maybe it’s time for some brutally honest conversations with God.

Whether you’re an extrovert or an introvert, this complicated season has been disconcerting. Some of us are surrounded by more people than we’re used to, while others feel like we’ve lost all connection. Either way, it’s easy to feel we’re tackling the fear, the grief, the general craziness alone. How do we break through the uncertainty and live and lead well?

This isn’t the way things were supposed to be. Not what you’d hoped for. Maybe you’ve lost a dream ... Maybe some who were by your side on the journey are now conspicuously absent. Employment ... Connection ... Security ... The loss is incalculable. Devastating. Whatever we’ve lost, we grieve. How can we do that well — and even find joy again?

Maybe it shows up in the middle of the night or the first moments of the morning ... Whenever a headline pops up on your newsfeed or the phone rings ... When you tuck your kids in at night ... Fear. It’s practically part of the family these days — which only makes sense, given the uncertainty of literally everything, right? Can we free ourselves from this most unwelcome companion?