She had been avoiding all the serious news of the day, like it was the plague — particularly bad form for someone who took care to be informed on such matters in case she was called upon to have passably reasoned opinions in polite conversation. She now only indulged on the fringes of it late at night when she couldn’t sleep. She clicked on all the most disgusting celebrity gossip and other nonsense that pretended to be noteworthy. And even that was usually more than she could bear, if only because the stories were so insipid.
When she contemplated the actual writhing mess of violence and hatred in the broader world, it overwhelmed her. Even small shiny bits of hope seemed smudged by the darkness of humanity. She tried to focus on making her small corner of the world bright and safe with everything that was good in her. But because she was an ordinary person, she didn’t always succeed, and she often felt completely sapped at the end of every day.
Maybe she had never really understood how much courage and devotion kindness required. And when she became too grossly introspective, even the act of getting out of bed required some bravery and inspiration.
She would have made a really bad Jesus. Thank God that was entrusted to someone else.