gasping for light

It's been a pretty good year for the McDonough family. Elizabeth has enjoyed a level of success that she has not known since she was a toddler. Claire has recovered from a scary concussion and continues to be an outstanding teacher. I'm healthy and content. My family of origin thrives and likes each other. My job is one where my passion, joy, and need intersect, and we do good work.

Despite that, I don't rejoice. The world seems dark and scary, and I am not alone in feeling this. It's no coincidence that at this time of year we yearn for the solstice, which ushers in lengthening days. We rejoice in the coinciding of the full moon and Christmas, two great lights breaking into the darkness. We decorate our homes with twinkling lights and candles. The people who walk in darkness have always looked for a great light.

I can't not watch the news because I feel it's important to know what is happening in the world, but so much seems focused on the dark side. People shooting each other. Political snipping and fighting. Terrorists, both domestic and abroad, seem to rule. War. Racism. Hatred. None of this is new, but what does seem particularly strong is the level of hatred among some Americans for those different from us.

This has crystalized in the presidential candidacy of Donald Trump, who spews hatred, racism, and sexism under the guise of making America "great" again, like it's a contest we have to win, no matter the cost. He started out as a joke, a buffoon, a gift to Democrats. But the joke isn't funny anymore. It's not The Donald who's so scary, but the fact that there are so many people who plan to vote for  him. A Republican-leaning friend and I were talking about him at church the other day. "Who supports him?" he asked in disgust. "I don't know anyone that does. Who ARE these people?" Polls show that those who were fading into obscurity—white supremacists and angry white men in particular—feel revitalized and hopeful over a Trump presidency.

I can't not watch. Pretending this level of evil doesn't exist just allows it to continue. This isn't about politics; this is about human decency and compassion. I feel I must name it as evil, fight it, and even mock it, but it's exhausting. Residing in darkness turns us into something that hates the light, a thing with a shriveled soul, like Gollum. Plants that grow without light turn pasty white, and fish trapped in caves for eons evolve into blindness. This darkness is not healthy and it certainly doesn't engender compassion for those who need what we have too much of. Hate has been focused with a vengeance toward those who are refugees from unspeakable violence, who brave horrors we can only imagine in our nightmares in order to get to a place where many revile them.

I find myself feeling like a fish out of water, writhing and flopping and gasping, not for air, but for light.

This Advent and Christmas, just to survive, I determined to spend as much time as I could looking for light and regaining hope. It's there. It's found in unexpected places, and its sometimes gentle and sometimes brash glow illuminates and warms us if we'll let it. I am filled with admiration and hope by Brandon Stanton, who surely deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for his work; he began by photographing New Yorkers and telling their stories on his site, Humans of New York. He branched out into telling the stories of some of the Syrian refugees coming to the United States. In the process, we see them as more human and more like us, and they have been welcomed warmly with financial help as well as empathy and compassion.

The #Iwillprotectyou movement came about when veteran Kerri Peek responded to an American Muslim child's terror that she would be deported after hearing Trump's hateful rhetoric. Veterans and those in the armed forces stepped up to make it clear that Muslims are not the enemy and had nothing to fear from them. Light shone across the country, transmitted by Twitter and Facebook, and a child can once again sleep at night.

The Compassion Collective raised $1 million in three days, with no gift greater than $25. "Light won!" they posted. This money will go to strollers and slings for refugees walking long distances with babies. It provides floodlights to find drowning refugees trying to make it to shore, and blankets and heaters to help them make it through the winter in refugee camps. Glennon Doyle Melton, who describes herself as a recovering everything, has joined her nonprofit Together Rising with other writers to start a Love Revolution. "How do you find your purpose?" she asks. "What breaks your heart? There you go. There's your purpose."

Glimpses of hope: Muslim women protected Christian women on a bus in Kenya from terrorists. Pope Francis. Bloom County. Musicians. Augustine Literacy Project tutors, over 1000 of them now trained, teach low-income children to read. Foster parents. Artists. Teachers. Healers. Dr. Jim Withers roams the streets of Pittsburgh, bringing healthcare to the city's homeless population. Tomás Alvarez, a California social worker, reaches out to traumatized teens of color and provides hip-hop therapy, through his nonprofit Beats Rhymes and Life. Confederate flags came down. Same-sex marriage became legal. The US government is retiring all research chimps. Julie and Steve Bailey turned away from unspeakable evil when their mentally ill son was murdered, turning their broken hearts to the work of founding Josh's Hope, which provides light and job training to mentally ill young adults. It's there. What breaks your heart? That broken place is where the light can enter.

Let's join, we broken-hearted people, to usher in the light this time of darkness. Please use the comments to tell us of other groups and people who are light-bearers. Let's name THEM instead of those who stand on the side of hate and darkness.

The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.