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Over the last week, I spent some time in the mountains and experienced snowfall. One day, as I walked through a field of fresh snow, I began to grow tired. I thought to myself: how am I going to make it to the other side at this rate? I looked down and watched as my foot crunched, sunk, and dug deeper into the snow with each step. I grew even more depleted.

But then, I decided to adopt a new strategy. I began to imagine that I was light as a feather. I stepped gently on the snow and looked up to the sky. Somehow, this enabled me to almost float gently on top of the snow. Suddenly, walking on the snow felt so much easier. 

This image propelled me to think about 2021. Like so many of you, I eagerly awaited its arrival a few days ago. 

I imagined: When I wake up in 2021, things will suddenly feel different and new. Unfortunately, the crushing and devastating events of this past week shattered this idyllic image. Suffice it to say, 2021 is not off to the start for which we had hoped and prayed. 

However, through the darkness, there are bright spots. The powerful images of friends and first responders receiving vaccines...the tentative plans many of us are making for the future as the light approaches at the end of the tunnel...all of this gives me chills as I envision a return to lives well-lived.  

As we find ourselves in the first weeks of 2021, we are forever changed. We now know that anything can happen in life. But we must remember that it's not just BAD events that can knock us off our feet. Beautiful, unexpected and miraculous events can occur too, and they also can knock us off our feet in a similar way. 

This Shabbat, as we begin reading our foundational Book of Exodus, we remind ourselves that we can be surprised not only by horrible and unpleasant events, but also by miracles and wondrous acts of God. Much of it remains out of our control, and yet much resides within our control. Will we fight the snow and sink, or embrace it and float? 

The Talmud suggests that we find ourselves confronted with a question at the end of our lives: “Did you hope for better days?” The Talmud implies that at the end of our lives, we are actually judged by our ability to dream big, to remain optimistic...to believe in miracles. 

So it is as we remain hopeful about our lives and our world. If we stubbornly insist on carrying our own burdens and scars without sharing them with God or our community, we feel heavy and punch through the snow. In so doing, our journeys grow lonely and arduous. And yet, if we stay light on our feet, if we lift our eyes and turn our hearts towards God and others, it all becomes much easier. The burden eases. 

This Shabbat, I invite us to do as our Israelite ancestors did as they marched to freedom. As we continue to walk into the unknown of 2021, I invite us to turn our worries over to God, to look up to the sky  and to know that we are not walking alone. Though the trauma of the past year and the past days accompany us, we can move slowly into 2021. We can reflect upon all that has changed us; the good and the bad.  Perhaps if we move into this new year consciously and with deep intention...Perhaps if we hope earnestly for better days, those better days will most certainly be on their way.

Shabbat Shalom.