Keep the light

“I wanted to give that person money,” my child said today. “He was sleeping on the street, and I wanted to give him money so he can buy a house.” My husband had been driving through downtown, where many of San Diego’s homeless population live. 

This same child is the one who shouted at his friend, “No, don’t kill it! Bees are good for the earth!”

Oh, to have the innocence of a child—to believe that such solutions can heal the world. One dollar to one homeless man. Saving one dying bee. But oh, the pride that floods me when I bear witness to the compassion he has.

I am admittedly low on hope these days. Familiar despair creeps in between the cracks through my defenses. Days when I wonder if there is any point in trying when there are those outside determined to destroy all I’ve built. When there are ghosts inside that will never leave me be.

And I know, I know hopelessness is easy. Grasping for hope, for joy—that is where courage is needed.

Because I’m tired of nightmares and waking up to horrifying news.

Tired of working toward a future I can’t envision.

Tired of wordless departing footsteps of those who promised to stay.

Tired of doing the mundane daily tasks not knowing when the fire will come to us.

But there is a remarkable child who doesn’t know. There is a child who gives away his best Pokemon card if he knows someone else wants it. There is a child who protects his toddler sister with ferocity on the playground. There is a child who is mine and chases away the shadows a little.

When asked how we can pray for him tonight, he said, “Pray that I’ll keep the light with me.”

I hold his words and pray the same.

(because I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying.)