Not Everything Is Bad

Not everything is bad. That statement almost reads like one of those stress test sentences that can take on different meanings, depending on which word is emphasized.

Not everything is bad.

Not everything is bad.

Not everything is bad.

Whichever word you choose to emphasize, it sure does feel like this year of our Lord, two thousand and twenty, set out to grab the title of “The Year Everything Was Bad.” For some of us, never having experienced a time like this before, the year has been a fresh sort of terrible; for others, this year might be another flagging tally on a proverbial scoreboard of trials and tribulations. 

This year has introduced us to a sort of communal scoreboard of bad news, which has lent us a collective feeling of grief in that we are all—to some extent—experiencing these “bad” things and feelings together. You can’t look at a screen without being assaulted by the latest COVID-19 headlines, the blaring polarization of American politics, the addictive and ever-growing dissonant relationship between social media doomsday scrolling, and reality. Click, scroll, refresh, repeat. 

Puzzles! They made a comeback. Early in March and April, when states first went into lockdown, you couldn’t get your hands on puzzles and board games. During that time, gamemaker Ravensburger had reported U.S. puzzle sales soared 370% year over year within a two-week time frame, according to the company’s North America CEO Filip Francke. 

Puppies! Animal shelters and rescues have reported empty crates as more and more people adopt and foster. Happily Ever After Animal Sanctuary, located in Ashwaubenon, Wisconsin, saw a record-breaking number of adoptions in an April week in which 27 cats and dogs found their forever homes. Personally, pet rescue videos have always been the easiest and swiftest way to give myself a dose of heart toasties. 

Food donations! Local food banks have been overwhelmed by donations, particularly over the Thanksgiving holiday. To date, Substance Church, a congregation located in the heart of downtown Minneapolis, has donated and served the under-resourced community every Sunday after church service. To this point, that’s been over 3 million pounds of food!

Oh, and hobbies! Did you find yourself picking up that dusty pair of binoculars on the top shelf of the laundry room cupboard (speaking of, way to go on that organization project, you champion) and opening that old birding book you used to love? Just one more chase through the brush to find that Black-Throated Grey Warbler and your list is complete! 

Did you spend more time on things you always wished you had more time for: your family, your hobbies, time you normally dedicated to congested commutes, ambient office noise, or maybe that aforementioned mind-numbing scrolling we are so conditioned to do?

Even if you have appreciated having extra time now, maybe you miss the office, the separation of home and work. I miss people. A full church pew. The bustle of life. I miss when the world felt a little less like a live wire. Missing things feels sad, and that can add to the feeling that everything is bad.

The apostle Paul writing to the Thessalonians said: in everything give thanks (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Focus on that little preposition. Paul didn’t tell them to give thanks for everything, but in everything. Paul’s perspective acknowledges the painful, awful struggles of life, but challenges us to have a heart of gratitude and hope in our God—the ultimate source of good, and the author of faith, hope and love. Math gives me anxiety (I still have nightmares from Algebra 1.); but I know that faith, hope, and love always add up to a whole lot of good. Always.

My window is open now, despite the early winter chill. I hear church bells ringing in the distance and feel an aching sort of echo in my chest—the same ache church bells brought me last Sunday evening, when they rang at the close of a beloved friend’s funeral. 

That night I sat alone in a pew. I kept thinking, “Why now, why this year? What more can break me; how much more can I take?” And then an “ah-ha” moment hit. I was overwhelmed by immense, unbounded grief. Yet in the midst of that shroud, I looked around at my friends and adopted family peppered throughout the chapel—at a group bonded by our love and loss of a servant leader; lost to us here on Earth, but now with his Father, whom he so loved. I felt grateful, the hollow ache in my chest dulling, even as tears fell down my cheek.  

The ability to see what’s good at any moment and have a heart of gratitude does not require a house in your heart that separates them from what’s bad. Those feelings and thoughts all commingle because we’re human. The great news is that the joy and happiness that come from a grateful heart aren’t dependent on feeling good; they conquer the bad every time because they are the byproduct of the hope in our gracious and loving Father, whose love is our ultimate source of good. Full stop.

Look back through some photos you’ve taken this year. Look at that impromptu camping trip your family took, the food drive you volunteered for, or that beautiful tawny doe you saw on a particularly lovely morning walk. If you don’t have those moments or photos yet, there’s time! 

Take a walk through your neighborhood. Notice the faces of those in your community and wave hello. Wonder at how the leaves crackle under your feet, how snowflakes land on your sleeve perfectly frozen, or the way the shoreline looks so fresh after a rainstorm. Donate to your local pantry—whatever you can. Make your bed. Call a friend you haven’t heard from in a while. Ask for help. Be still and know that He is God, and He is with you. He is with all of us. Take a deep breath and …

In everything give thanks.

In everything give thanks.

In everything give thanks.

Emphasize whatever word you want; it takes time and practice. So instead of click, scroll, refresh … let’s repeat one last thing: not everything is bad, because our God is good.