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Dear Reader,


In one piece and in good spirits, I have returned from my Advent-ure, ba-da-bum-bum. After a hopeful pregnant pause, my words will again either freeze over like Mirror Lake in Lake Placid or pour forth like Niagara Falls. My prayer is for the latter. There’s a lot to say and limited time. Thoughts and words and verse richoceted off the window of my car as I drove, so I will sincerely do my best to write and share. The muse does not always visit me when I call to her. Nevertheless, I have come to discover that there are not many nobodies like me. A human being labeled by the world as a white, male, gay (queerly so), Christian (depending on who you ask), over-educated, under-employed, Gen-Xer human being. (That’s kind of a grungy thing to write, come to think of it.) Maybe people would be interested in reading about this odd duck. If so, you are kind to continue to read. In my youth, you could not force me to stop writing and posting. Overcome by my zeal and ideals, and my admittedly and repentedly, unabashed self-righteousness, I would blog every thought and declaration falling out of my cow-licked head. That was youth. And it was glorious while it lasted. Sometimes I miss that Chad of self-abandon. What a ride.


Drumroll please... Happy New Year! A lot of people are saying, promoting, promising, advocating a lot of things about this new year, and so, I will not be one of them. Let’s just say, I’m grateful for another day to be alive to try to live this crazy thing called life in the year 2025. Time is feeling much more fluid as I age, and some of these societal demarcations, like ringing in the new year, neither punctuate nor inspire me much anymore. Instead, I find myself weathering many seasons of ever-evolving challenges, growths, and changes. I do not know if the same has been true for you, but this season felt quiet like snow falling in a Vermont forest, whispers of a pause, of stillness, listening, hear, a time of rushing into warm embraces, to pull deep from roots, nourish with ancient wisdoms, honor those who have passed on, fortify with the love of those loved here, and for getting ready, getting prepared, for a new spring bloom blossoming. For everything, a season.


Love,

Chad


Snowy Vermont
Snowy Vermont

Sorry for the lack of blog posts or poetry, but I find myself soaking in this Advent trip across the Northeast U.S.A. thus will have much to pour forth in the New Year, God willing.


One thing I have noticed on my travels is just how much kindness either takes people off-guard or makes them suspicious. Either way, it means true kindness is severely lacking in the world. So spread some kindness this holiday in hopes some will find its way back to you. Stranger things have happened. 😉

Burlington Bay, Lake Champlain

When discussing my upcoming travel plans, it’s been interesting receiving people’s reactions, from “I’m so excited for you, what fun!” to “I’m terrified for you, how unpredictable!” to “I’m simply astonished by your stupidity.” Okay, maybe people haven’t said that exactly, but I see it in their eyes. A road trip Northeast in winter? What are you thinking? I, myself, hold all their thoughts, too, in a tenuous balance that I hope will lead me back home safely. A holistic anxious excitement. It’s very Advent.


If you’ve been following along, “justice” was the word on the Advent Calendar for yesterday’s photo-a-day. After I drank my coffee and read some articles of interest, with “justice” on my mind, I ran out to finish up some of the last few errands I have to do before heading off Sunday to my first stop, Tulsa, Oklahoma. There, I will get the opportunity to witness my nephews perform in a concert, one guitar, one drums, and I can’t wait.


As I headed to the store to pick up some roadside emergency preparedness peace of mind, I thought about images to post that would represent “justice.” A news podcast played in the background full of pardons and hard time depending on your social status, financial station, and melanin degree. As hard as I tried, the word “justice” left me blank, and I could not find my way out of my head long enough to look for it. So no image post yesterday. Apologies.


Here in 2024, I live in a historically impressive nation, the U.S.A., where we have managed to successfully maintain a stable government for 248 years, no small feat considering all the wars in which we have been involved, both within and without, offensively and defensively. And over these past two and a half centuries, since the very beginning, the scales of justice have never been balanced, even at America’s best. Ever. It is surprising to me that this is surprising people. Ask any pretty girl who’s ever been pulled over for speeding. Now ask…


Our country is embarking on a new path, one I don’t think we’ve witnessed in our lifetimes. Something different is beginning, and, if I’m listening correctly to what’s being carried on the wind about justice in the U.S.A., I hear Americans saying, duh, we know our justice system is rigged. We’re just sick and tired of it not being rigged in our favor. And if it’s not going to be reformed so that those of us daily on the grind have a chance, then fine, just admit it, stop pretending, and throw open Pandora’s box. It was already cracked open anyway. And I get it. To watch Justin Timberlake walk away from his DWI with practically a head shake while a careless, regretful other endured much more punishment (blog post for another day) was incredibly frustrating.


However, tempting as it is, burning everything to the ground will only produce useless ash despite billionaires’ promises of better. And if it’s one thing I learned in Constructive Theology in Divinity School, deconstructing a theology, a theory, a system of thought, may be easy, even fun. But in order to make the grade, you must accomplish the incredibly difficult challenge of rebuilding, something only possible with those foundational old bones, what you value in your humanity, your spirituality, in your life.


In addition to the headlines, this idea of justice came into focus with the most clarity a few weekends ago. My nephews and I gathered around the dinner table to play an interactive game called “Out of the Loop” The game's goal is to figure out who is out of the loop by asking questions only those in the loop would know. Therefore, among the three of us, only the one out of the loop was allowed to make up answers to avoid suspicion and win the game. The other two had to answer truthfully. After rounds and rounds of playing and laughing hysterically, the youngest whined that after all that time playing, he had still not gotten to be “out of the loop.” So I, the doting, albeit thoughtless, uncle, in wanting him to have fun, said, “Well you could always make us think you are out of the loop when you are not. That could be fun.” It was a mischievous take on the game that had begun innocently and was quite fun already.


The next round, I proceeded to play the game that way, pretending I was out of the loop when I was not. After the winner was declared, the oldest cried out, “Uncle Chad, you changed the rules! Well, if we can just lie, then this game just got a whole lot easier.” I was stricken by the truth with which this eleven-year-old bludgeoned me. Ashamed of myself, I went to him, repented, and asked for his forgiveness. I acted unjustly, played for the easy laugh rather than that which was meaningful and honest. For a quick fix and smile, I negated the priceless memories we had been creating. Worst of all, I set a horrible example for my nephews as the kind of person I hope they will become: Not a winner who cheats, but a loser with a heart of gold attempting to live life fully, honestly, with integrity and meaning. Perhaps I’m a sucker. I’ve been called worse. For I am no saint. I have my fair share of regrets and a well of repentance from which to pull. But I do try to live a life of dignity and respect. It is what I choose for myself in this life.


This Advent, as I prepare for the journey ahead, both the one of the road and the one of my spirit within, I hope to use this trip as a time of actively hoping, and not of waiting in fear or even despair over what may come. Though our society may be heading onto a path of no accountability, and one where the ideal of justice may dim from our view, do not let anyone take away your imagining of what true justice could be, the transformative power it could have, the spiritual enlightenment it could bring. Even if it can only live in your mind, hold on to those old bones, those ideals, passed to us by the generations before us who grasped for true justice, often giving their lives for an ideal they never saw fulfilled. Fight for it, honor them, and believe—however hard it may be—that a better world for all of humanity is possible. Because if you are anything like me, you have to hope, you must believe, that one day someone will breathe new life into those old bones, and generation by generation, we will edge closer to paradise.

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