Diane and I were talking as we do when the dusk is settling over the land and we absorb the end of the day, gazing out at the diminishing light.

A little while later, we sat down to dinner, now two days after our Thanksgiving feast, hosting over a dozen people (five dogs in attendance) and we prayed this evening for a number of people we know who are really suffering.

The news is full of strife and anger and judgment. The noise is deafening.

Despite all of that, what tugs at the heart is the pain in the lives of some people who deserve to be called angels. These are people, flawed as I’m sure they would admit, but who would be recognized by others as set apart. They endure at time with great difficulty. We, who love them, ask what we can do to help and try to to arrive at some kind of balance in our own lives. There seems to be no lack of need.

Who are we to preserve barriers to the people who suffer in our midst? Who are we to give thanks but ignore the pleas of the needy?

We must pray that those voices reach our hearts and our only question is how do I respond while not succumbing to the lie that suffering is the only conclusion?

The dusk light is waning but the dawn of a new day is hardly a wink away. We hung the lights and ornaments of the season today along with bows and ribbons and other symbols that express to the world that there is ornamentation that holds the shadows at bay.

We pray fervently for the release from pain and suffering … for the power of love and grace and healing and forgiveness to transform our world. We also stand by expectantly, with hope and the patience born of a promise.