The Middle

When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.”

—Luke 2:14–16

You don’t know what the story is about when you’re in the middle of it. All you can do is keep walking.

At the beginning, you have buoyancy and a little arrogance. The journey looks beautiful and bright, and you are filled with resolve and silver strength, sure that you will face it with optimism and chutzpah.

And the end is beautiful. You are wiser, better, deeper. The end is revelation, resolution, a soft place to land.

But, oh, the middle. The middle is fog, exhaustion, loneliness, the daily battle against despair and the nagging fear that tomorrow will be just like today, only you’ll be wearier and less able to defend yourself against it.

All you can ask for, in the middle, are sweet moments of reprieve in the company of people you love. For a few hours, you’ll feel protected by the goodness of friendship and life around the table, and that’s the best thing I can imagine.