I missed posting last week’s blog because COVID hit our house at Thanksgiving. Taking on all the household chores and tending a person in isolation takes a lot of time. On top of that, I caught a cold. It was just a cold. I tested on day one, day three and day five. All came out negative for Covid, but a rotten cold can wreck havoc with a schedule too.
By mid-week, I was well enough to go to book club. We read The Rosie Project and everyone had a good laugh. In my book club, good conversation and lots of laughter signal a successful meeting. We’re not big on literary critique.
However, at the end of the meeting talk turned to the local election, the war in the Ukraine, protests in Iran, climate change, destruction of the oceans, drought, floods, violence on the streets, crisis in health care, to name only a few of our cheerful topics.
Then we reviewed our book list and nearly everyone agreed that they only wanted to read uplifting, hopeful stories for the time being. Tales that take us into places of darkness and disaster and despair are too hard to take, given the situation in the world today. We’ve read them before and we’ll read them again, but not right now. Right now we need to hear hope, we need to see light and we need to live in a world of possibilities.
So to all you authors who write about love and family and home and faith, thank you. Even if others tell you to write “real” books, don’t be dissuaded or discouraged. The stories you (we) write that show right triumphant over wrong, love beating hate, and happily-ever-after winning over despair are the message many need to hear.
By Providence, I received a devotional in my morning mail the next day, based on . Hebrews 11: 1 Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. The letter was written over 2000 years ago to a despairing, persecuted people, a reminder that the evidence of our eyes — the sight of evil, poverty, greed, hatred — are not the only reality. We need not be overwhelmed. We can live in hope.