December 21, 2012 was a good day.

When the sun shines and each frosty breath trails off with a dissipating glow, it’s hard to believe that anything could be wrong in the world.

Whenever this sensation arises, it takes me back to the summer I met my wife. One afternoon we went out in the woods for a little target practice and got caught in a torrential downpour. Typical of the Northwest, if you don’t like the weather wait 10 minutes. But the rain wasn’t cold and we were prepared. We found a dense fir on the riverbank and climbed underneath. With our hoods drawn up, I couldn’t even see her; all I had was the sound of her voice and the gentle way she leaned against me.

We sat concealed while the river rushed by and waited out the storm. Despite the cracks I knew in us, and the darkness of the world we lived in, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine, in that moment, that anyone anywhere could be heartbroken.

Now two seasons and many years have passed.

This is a record for all of you who believe that tomorrow you will wake up, make a pot of tea, let the cat out, and catch up on the news of the day. You believe that, despite all the fear in the media, the sun will rise in the morning and the days will start getting longer.

Life goes on.

We are not heading for an apocalypse that hangs on cosmic alignment, global conspiracy, or the far off beat of a butterfly wing.

What are we headed for?

To be sure we stand on a precipice, toes over the edge, and fear the push from behind. We are anxious with thoughts of capricious collapse. The asteroid that slams into earth initiating a global winter so harsh few living things survive. The termination of an ancient calendar cycle that can only prophesy cosmic disintegration.

We cling to our lazy impractical fears while it is much more likely that we will be given all the time we need to destroy ourselves without any cosmic interference necessary. God does not punish us for our sins … our sins punish themselves.

Therein lies hope.

When we begin to feel the real weight of our actions we are reminded that other choices, better choices, were possible. We could have done differently … still can. Times change. Lives change. The world is different than it was, will be different than it is.

The future is not inevitable. It is our responsibility and we will not leave it to others or to chance.

As I write, the sun crosses the horizon and heads out over the Pacific to end the world’s day. The light is fading and Solstice brings the longest night of the year. Some fear it is the last night of the world. But, even after all we’ve seen this year, I’m betting it’s not.

December 21, 2012 was the end of the world as we knew it, and I felt fine.