It’s November.

And in all the ways we have failed to give thanks for all the many good things each day, here we are, kicking and screaming, forced to give our obligatory thanks.

I’m not being cynical. I say all that tongue-in-cheek.

Wow. Brandon has really given up.

(I heard that)

Just kidding. I wanted to get a reaction from you.

Anyway.

I have written so much about thanksgiving (and Thanksgiving) over the years. About how it ought to be the perpetual outflow of our lives rather than a singular celebration. I still believe it because it is true. It is just a better way to live. It is a healthier and more integrated way to live. It is the way we were created to live.

But the last few years, months, days make that sentiment, that wisdom hard to trust.

You all know I am an open book. I tell you when I am at the highest of heights and when I am experiencing the lowest of lows. I tell you when I am celebrating and when I am struggling. I am vulnerable to a fault, in my opinion. Maybe it’s been good for my own mental health to be so honest but I’m not sure it has done me any favors outside of that, if I am to be honest.

But I share these highs and lows, these real human emotions and experiences, to let you know that life is neither all bad nor all good. There are moments in which heaven and earth overlap and that experience feels like the way it ought to be. But there are even more times when everything seems out of control, where injustice is rampant and out of control, and we begin to question if there is any point to any of this or if we should press on and continue to do good. If you have thought any of these things, that’s why I write. To give voice to all of these feelings and emotions, these mountain highs and valley lows.

But see, that is why we commune every Tuesday morning around these words. That’s why you keep coming back (I think). Because you are good and you want to keep pressing on. You believe there can be more than what we see and hear every day. You are hopeful despite the dark clouds that always seem to occlude the light. You, we, are that light, together.

Here is some honesty and vulnerability: I sat down to write a note to you about how tired I am. How I need a break from writing each week. How I am going to take a few months off. But look at what these fingers, this heart, this Spirit did. It showed me that we need light in the darkness. We need wise and generative words to help us grow and keep us going. It’s not time to stop gathering together each Tuesday morning. We will continue.

So let’s give thanks for all that is good and that keeps on giving. Let’s give thanks for all things bright and beautiful. And let’s give thanks for each other, this small community of love and light. It is good…and you (we) are good, together.

Much peace and love,

Brandon