In early January, I received a card from a friend with the following quote on the cover: “And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been.” The words were written by poet and novelist Rainer Maria Rilke. The quote has stayed with me in these first weeks of this new year.

Always – there is expectation, anticipation, hope at the ending of one year and the beginning of another. It is also an opportunity to evaluate and celebrate the journey that has unfolded during the past year. There are moments when I would rather ignore, dismiss, even deny challenges that have taken their toll on me in the past year. It is far easier to imagine the days ahead anticipating happier and easier days. Yet, I am reminded that in reflecting on the past, I will often find the moments of peace and even joy in remembering where God came near to my suffering or brokenness. It turns out that our reflection on days gone by is as important as the excitement of what may come in this new year.

Many of you know, I have learned to walk a new road over the past couple of years, with an unwelcome companion, in dealing with Acute Idiopathic Recurrent Pancreatitis. More simply stated – it is pancreatitis without cause or trigger that shows up whenever the pancreas decides it needs a break. At its best, this companion is a frustration and a nuisance in my life. At its worst, it is a “take your breath away” kind of pain and an “upset your life routine” kind of schedule. Though, I like to believe I am superhuman and can tackle anything. The last couple of years have been humbling to be forced to put your life on hold to deal with a body that has an internal organ that misfires on occasion. When you are the person who so often tends the needs and suffering of others, it can turn your world upside down to be faced with the prospect of needing tending yourself.

I share all of this with you because many of you have taught me how to walk with this new companion. Many of you have shared your own stories of struggle – the frustration, the anger, the betrayal of your body. I have listened to your stories and I have learned from you. I have done some listening to my own body also – to rest when a flare or episode arrives and to ask for help at the Emergency Department when managing at home is less than ideal.

What all this means, in my life, is that I can fight the episodes and push through the pain and do my best to ignore – and sometimes that is exactly what I do. And other times, I do my best to listen to what others tell me – rest, recover, renew. And in this new year – a fourth “R” is added – reflect.

In the midst of the struggles over the past year, God has been present in some most amazing ways. I have had friends come and sit at the hospital with me. A pastoral assistant or two have found their way to my hospital room. My mom came to visit and after I told her she did not need to visit, she said, “Are you kidding, this is the best way to get you to myself for an entire hour!” It turns out the quote up above speaks to me for a couple of reasons. In welcoming the new year, “full of things that have never been,” I am learning to be more present to myself, to others, and to our God. When I first read the quote, I thought the “things that have never been” would be new adventures, new possibilities and indeed those experiences are always available. However, I have also learned that “things that have never been” may also lead me to moments where I am more present, more available, and more attentive to myself and the world around me.

Yes, I have much to learn in this new year. Perhaps that is why Epiphany, as the season of light, offers so much possibility and anticipation. God comes into the world. The light of God overwhelms the darkness. And in reflecting on some darker days and challenging moments, I am reminded that God promises a year of “things that have never been.”

Bring it on God. Bring it all on. I am ready for the road ahead. I hope you are too. Remembering all the while that God is with us.

Peace my friends. See you in church.

Pastor Chris
(Reprinted from the February 2020 newsletter)