As if this year hadn’t thrown us enough curveballs already, my community was informed last week that we are under an indefinite boil order. Thanks, 2020.

If you’re unfamiliar with what a boil order is, it’s basically a fancy way for the local government to let you know that your tap water is unfit for consumption. Any water intended for humans to eat or drink must be boiled for at least a minute to ensure that it won’t make you very sick. Thus the name “boil order.”

It might seem inconsequential given everything else that’s happening in the world right now, but for my friends and neighbors, a development like this is very disruptive. Several local restaurants had to immediately shut down, putting their employees out of work with no guaranteed return date. There were concerns that students wouldn’t be able to attend schools without something to drink, though administrators were able to quickly put together a plan. Grocery stores are forced to ration out bottled water to ensure everyone has a chance to get some.

It’s all anyone can talk about. There are signs everywhere. People are constantly asking, “Is the boil order still in place? How much longer?”

People’s lives are being greatly affected. And it’s all because someone didn’t use enough disinfectant at the water treatment plant.

I don’t say all of this to complain. Katherine and I are getting by just fine; for us, it’s just an inconvenience. But I do worry about all of the other people in my small town who are struggling with lack of work or access to clean water right now. Their suffering is real. And even though it seems like a minor problem compared to what we’ve all faced this year, it isn’t for them. For them, it’s just another in a series of undeserved blows that have come this year to threaten them and their loved ones.

The life of my community has been significantly disrupted by dirty water. Something we took for granted just a few days ago has become the thing we yearn for the most. It’s like living in a bizarre alternate version of reality, and it’s quite unsettling.

That last sentence probably describes how most of us have felt throughout this strange and difficult year. It really does seem like we woke up one morning in a world that looks like ours but feels completely different. None of the threats we’re facing were expected, and the things we most desire now we didn’t give a second thought to this time last year.

Visiting friends and family. Going to a restaurant. Taking a trip to somewhere new. Seeing a movie in a theater. These activities were considered so commonplace before, and now, we talk about them like they’re either rare delights or lost practices from a bygone era.

Going to work. Paying rent. Sending kids to school. All of these were taken for granted before now. We don’t have that luxury anymore.

Whether it’s a virus bringing our entire world to a screeching hault or contaminated water interfering with the businesses and everyday lives of the people in my community, the events of this year have made one thing abundantly clear to me:

The things we hold dear are so very fragile. Our lives can change drastically at a moment’s notice. The smallest causes can have enormous effects and take away things we thought would always be there.

Life is precious. Love just as much so. And they’re fragile. So let’s cherish them for all they’re worth and make sure we don’t take a single thing for granted.

We don’t know what’s going to happen next. We don’t know what life will look like tomorrow or how things will change. All we can do is love those around us, appreciate the good things in life we do have, and hope for an even better tomorrow.

I’m sorry you had to read through a whole story about small town water issues, just to get to that, but I hope it’s helpful. I certainly needed the reminder this week. Maybe you did, too.

Thanks for reading, friends. I’ll talk to you again soon.