New Year’s Eve has never been my favorite holiday. Don’t like staying up late. Not a fan of parties. All New Year’s means to me is that it’s almost time to put away Christmas. And that’s just sad.
Of course, the new year is also considered a time to start fresh. The whole “resolution” thing. This time around I’m seeing a lot of posts and commentaries on what a relief it is that 2016, with all its tragedies, is coming to an end.
Can’t get on that bandwagon, either.
Because – surprise! – turning over a new month and a new year on the calendar won’t make even the tiniest dent in the the suck that was 2016. We’re just that much closer to the execution of Brexit. That much closer to the inauguration of a thoroughly slimy and disgusting, self-serving excuse for a human being into the hallowed halls of the POTUS. Refugees continue to search in vain for hope of safety and security. The voices of minorities and the oppressed are still drowned out by the privileged.
Defeatist? Yes, probably.
A couple of months ago, I found hope in the good I could do locally, through my full-time position in our church congregation. But due to incredibly bad leadership from those in power, those opportunities seem to be disappearing.
2017 on the horizon just looks depressingly bleak.
I hope something comes along to change that.