I’m sure we’ve all been deluged with opinions on how to survive the long drudgery of this pandemic.

There’s no doubt it has taken a toll. Every public opinion survey you read and every mental health professional you talk to will tell you not only how hard it’s been on people but how long it’s going to take to dig countless millions out of the abyss of hopelessness, anxiety and despair.

I don’t have any great answers other than depending on the fact that God is faithful and will help those who call on him.

But I do have one small suggestion to offer. It’s what I call the next step. Just look at what’s in front of you now.

A scene that unfolded as I looked out our patio doors this week pretty much summed up the last year. The people building a house on the vacant lot adjacent to us for no apparent reason obliterated a number of beautiful hundred year old trees that were a blaze of colour every October.

I might as well say it — I was angry. I felt — and was — helpless to prevent something that shouldn’t have happened. And that, I think, is how a lot of us feel processing the events of these past months.

The Christmas letter I wrote for many years has gradually morphed into this end of year update. It’s a little less personal, but enables me to give a brief description of what we’ve been doing to so many of you who have prayed for us, supported us and in general taken an interest in our lives.

Christmas in church is not Christmas without singing Joy to the World at least once. Few carols are as popular, yet none is as misunderstood.

In fact, Joy to the World is not a Christmas carol at all.

No longer.

I don’t think there’s ever been a year where the power of the media became such a subject of public focus. Somehow, we have always assumed — naively, perhaps — that for the most part what we saw and read was a reasonable representation of reality.

No longer.