Epiphany Amidst Chaos: Walking Toward Light in Uncertain Times
Happy Epiphany?!
Today, we mark a day in the Christian calendar that reminds us of light breaking into darkness. God, how we need more light! Or maybe just another celestial sign to guide us—especially those deeply saddened by the U.S. election. January 6th has been Epiphany far longer than the anniversary of an insurrection or the day an election is ratified.
Yet today, we watch a presidential nominee woman of color lose to a man convicted of sexual assault and business fraud. There's a certain irony that January 6th, for Christians, is about the Magi—wise and respected people willing to journey great distances through uncertainty, clinging to hope as they followed a star toward something they couldn't fully see or understand. It's a beautiful story, but it feels particularly bittersweet right now.
The world's lack of clarity is exhausting. What will happen to democracy in the USA? To the wars in Ukraine, Gaza, and Sudan? To people seeking asylum or international students trying to navigate life in a foreign country? The unknown is deeply unsettling. Political events like today leave many of us feeling disoriented, unmoored, and maybe even hopeless. Chaos seems to be the only certainty.
But chaos, as Silf (2011) reminds us, is not the enemy. In her words, "Without a period of breakdown and chaotic dislocation, nothing new can ever emerge" (p. 46). Chaos is sacred material—overflowing with potential and brimming with opportunities for creativity and transformation. While we often blame ourselves or others for the disintegration of systems, Silf challenges us to see breakdown as a necessary precursor to breakthrough.
For me, I'm aspiring to be grounded. I'm not perfect at it—not even close—but I'm practicing. And life has given me plenty of reasons to practice. Being grounded doesn't mean fixing the chaos. It means trusting that a way is being made. It's learning to sit with the unsettling truth that life is messy while clinging to the stubborn belief that love and hope are still alive.
Wheatley (2009) reminds us that the sacred is always found in connection. It doesn't have to be with another person—it could be with an idea, a feeling, or even the birds outside your window. These moments of connection move us beyond ourselves into something larger, something spacious and liberating. In these sacred moments, we are reminded that while not all is "alright," we are not alone; there is still beauty and peace to be found.
In my quieter moments—usually when I'm knitting or when the cats curl up next to me—I reconnect to that hope. I remember that God is with us in the mess. Not waiting for the world to be perfect (let's face it, it won't be), but showing up in the thick of it. Being grounded means trusting that love and community are still possible, even in a chaotic world. And they are. I've seen it. Maybe not on the grand, world-changing scale we dream of, but in small, sacred ways: right here in my condo, in friends singing each other Happy Birthday, in family phone calls, in my own prayer life. God is in me and among us, even in the chaos and uncertainty. We need to remind ourselves and each other of this—daily.
Epiphany reminds us that divine light still guides us, even when the path ahead is full of muck, requiring more than we think we have. As Silf (2011) suggests, chaos might feel like a formless void, but it is precisely here that God's Spirit is active—stirring, creating, and inviting us into new possibilities. We are not promised an easy road. And yet, we're so often sold the lie that we can control everything in our lives. But here's the truth: we can only be certain of uncertainty. What we can cling to, though, is the reminder that there are glimpses of hope—enough light to take the next step.
So today, I'm asking myself: What does it mean to keep walking toward the light, even when the world feels unsteady?
For me, it means being mindful of how much news I consume and aware of how it impacts me. It means writing, responding to emails, working on a grant for Heart to Heart, working out, and teaching at the prison. It's not groundbreaking or world-changing, but it's the next step. It's trusting that my work, my presence, and my hope matter, even in the middle of uncertainty.
How about you? What keeps you grounded in times like these?
References
Agelesses. (2017). North star illustration: Stars night sky. [Illustration]. Retrieved January 6, 2025, from https://pixabay.com/illustrations/north-star-stars-night-night-sky-2869817/
Silf, M. (2011). The other side of chaos: Breaking through when life is breaking down. Loyola Press.
Wheatley, M. J. (2009). Turning to one another: Simple conversations to restore hope to the future. Berrett-Koehler Publishers.
In a world that often feels unsteady, sharing words of light and hope can make a difference. If this post spoke to you, consider sharing it with others or subscribing to receive future reflections. Together, we can create a wider circle of connection and groundedness.