I’m tired. Worn out. Burnt to a crisp. T-O-A-S-T.
I think we all are.
The last six months has felt like six years, and at the same time I don’t quite understand how the year is almost over.
And if you look strictly at the headlines, the last quarter of 2020 isn’t shaping up to be a real showstopper either.
Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade – CANCELLED
NYE Ball Drop in Times Square – CANCELLED
Maybe it’s the added weight of watching my city devolve into violence in the wake of more riots this week, or maybe it’s the cumulative effect of half a year in pandemic-mode, but I’m completely burned out.
I was holding back tears of frustration while the sweet girl at Chick-fil-A took my order today.
Behind her, I could see sheets of plywood being placed over storefront windows to discourage the looters tonight.
I forgot my mask. My kids screamed their orders from the back seat, and I remembered that I forgot to swing by the pharmacy to pick up my anti-depressant.
Burned out.
As I snaked around the drive-thru, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego popped into my mind.
How that firey furnace looks a lot like this year.
God didn’t save them from being thrown into the flames. I’m sure they were terrified and thought it was the end.
But what He did was even better.
He stood with them in the middle of the fire until they were called out. And once they emerged, they weren’t burned up – the Bible tells us that they didnt even smell like smoke.
Maybe that’s what’s happening to us in 2020.
Maybe we weren’t spared the challenges of this year, and maybe we’ve had to stand in the middle of some fires.
But He’s standing here with us.
And maybe we still have some hard months ahead and we won’t ring in 2021 with the dropping of a sparkly ball.
But I can bet one thing: With Him by our side, we’ll emerge from this year stronger.
We may be burned out, but we won’t be burned up. And when we walk out of this fire, I bet we won’t even smell like smoke.
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