Good Riddance 2020?

The last month of 2020 arrived today. Some say good riddance, but not me. Not all of it. Surely we’ve learned some lessons too hard to be learned any other way.

Our toy box got too full. We had to turn it over, dump it all out, examine the mess, and hopefully, throw away all but the best, that which delights and encourages and inspires.

Love is not really love

until it circles

with no beginning or end.

If I only love me,

it’s a period. An end.

If I only love others,

leaving myself alone in the dirt,

it’s an apostrophe

without a subject.

If I love God only

but forget about my neighbors

and loathe myself,

it’s merely an asterisk,

a sign that explains nothing,

no substance behind or below.

If I love myself and my neighbors

but forget about God,

I’ve underscored nothing;

I’ve got a line in the sand

that washes away

a thousand times a day.

Even worse, if I love myself

and the God who created me,

but forget about my neighbors,

I’m just a forward slash

(or back slash, depending on

which way I lean),

unstable and divisive.

The only way

for love to be real

is to let it flow round

and round,

a circle that never ends,

from God to me and to

all my neighbors

who become my friends,

and back to God;

a circle

out of time

existing in eternity

in no way bound

by our tiny minds—

a whirlwind

that strengthens

and refreshes itself

with power

that makes everything new.

Amen and amen.

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