While reflecting on what I wrote yesterday in Navigating Real Life, I thought of this passage from Little Town on the Prairie. I think perhaps it will resonate with others.

Christmas was near, yet there was still no snow. There had not been a single blizzard. In the mornings the frozen ground was furry white with hoarfost, but it vanished when the sun rose. Only the underneath of the sidewalk and the shadows of the stores were frosty when Laura and Carrie hurried to school. The wind nipped their noses and chilled their mittened hands and they did not try to talk through their mufflers.

The wind had a desolate sound. The sun was small and the sky was empty of birds. On the endless dull prairie the grasses lay worn-out and dead. The schoolhouse looked old and gray and tired.

It seemed that the winter would never begin and never end. Nothing would ever happen but going to school and going home, lessons at school and lessons at home. Tomorrow would be the same as today, in all her life, Laura felt, there would never be anything but studying and teaching school. Even Christmas would not be a real Christmas without Mary.

The book of poems, Laura supposed, was still hidden in Ma’s bureau drawer. Every time Laura passed the bureau at the head of the stairs in Ma’s room, she thought of that book and the poem she had not finished reading. “Courage!” he said, and pointed to the land. “This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.” She had thought the same thought so often that it was stale, and even looking forward to the book for Christmas was no longer exciting.

Friday night came again. Laura and Carrie washed the dishes as usual. As usual, they brought their books to the lamplit table. Pa was in his chair, reading the paper. Ma was gently rocking and her knitting needles were clicking as they always did. As usual., Laura opened her history book.

Suddenly she could not bear it all. She thrust back her chair, slammed her book shut and thumped it down on the table. Pa and Ma started, and looked at her in surprise.

“I don’t care!” she cried out. “I don’t want to study. I don’t want to learn! I don’t want to teach school, ever!”

Ma looked as stern as it was possible for her to look. “Laura,” she said, “I know you would not swear, but losing your temper and slamming things is as bad as saying the words. Let us have no more wooden swearing.”

Laura did not answer.

“What is the matter, Laura?” Pa asked. “Why don’t you want to learn, and to teach school?”

“Oh, I don’t know!” Laura said in despair. “I am so tired of everything. I want – I want something to happen. I want to go West. I guess I want to just play, and I know I am too old,” she almost sobbed, a thing she never did.

“Why, Laura!” Ma exclaimed.

“Never mind,” Pa said soothingly. “You have been studying too hard, that is all.”

“Yes, put away your books for this evening,” said Ma. “In the last bundle of Youth’s Companions, there were still some stories that we have not read. You may read one to us, Laura, wouldn’t you like that?”

“Yes, Ma,” Laura answered hopelessly. Even reading a story was not what she wanted. She did not know what she wanted, but she knew she could not have it, whatever it was. She got the Youth’s Companions and pulled her chair to the table again. “You choose the story you want, Carrie,” she said. 

I think many Americans are feeling that frustrated longing for something to change. For someone to do something – almost anything – to stop what is happening to our country. It’s frustrating beyond words to watch the evil wash over our land and feel helpless as an individual to stem the destructive tide. Financial difficulties have left tens of millions of American citizens with no freedom or options. For many, life was altered five years ago and it has never gone back to a semblance of normalcy. The future seems bleak with nothing hopeful for which to plan. Younger Americans, in particular, see a bleak future.

I still believe better days are coming and everything is not as terrible as it looks on the surface. But if there is one thing I wish I could do over, it is this. I told a friend earlier this week that if I knew in January and February of 2021 that we would still be slogging through this great awakening in 2024, I would have paced myself much differently. I never dreamed we would still be in the midst of all of this three years later. I understand why we are, but given what was openly known about Biden’s Chinese compromise, the election fraud, etc. in 2020, I did not think things would be allowed to go this long. It is surely the grace of God that the country has held together this long without devolving into worse than we are currently experiencing.

I can’t change the way things have unfolded. I can only keep going. But, yes, I understand Laura’s frustration with the sameness of every day. The mind-numbing feeling that nothing ever changes. The desire to do something very different that you can’t even name. I’ve slammed things down in frustration as well. I am hopeful, but I am also human.

But we press on in faith, praying Psalm 91. There is no other option.

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