Is this the fall of our discontent?

One day at a time, sweet Jesus, That’s all I’m asking from you Give me the strength to do every day what I have to do … — Country gospel song by Marijohn Wilkin and Kris Kristofferson

The coming fall season brings to mind that childhood game where your tricky friend or sibling would tell you, “Open your mouth and close your eyes, and I will give you a big surprise.”

Riiiight. Will it be a bug? A booger? An actual treat? Hard to tell.

To heck with chrysanthemums, pumpkins and pumpkin-spice lattes. There are other things vying for our attention.

It’s really hard to tell how the school year is going to look. Online classes? In-person classes? A combo of both? Will the 2021 seniors’ school year start out as dismally as the 2020 seniors’ school year ended?

Football, on so many fronts, is up in the air. No, not a literal football sailing through the air from the quarterback to the tight end. The sport of football, a fall staple, is up in the air as major college conferences cancel their seasons and playing schedules are rearranged. And if football is to be played, can we go see it played in person? Are you ready for some … tiddlywinks?

What about clothes? Should we even bother to buy those sleek new cool/cold-weather fashions? Or just buy thicker leggings, a few sweatshirts, maybe a Zoom-worthy jacket and shirt or two if we’re working from home? (And geesh, there seem to be fewer and fewer face-to-face retail outlets to buy from anyway.)

Going out to eat remains a challenge. Gotta do some research to see if our favorite places are taking diners, and we can only hope that they’ll still be open for a fall outing or two. Oh yeah … better take a card to pay. The restaurants and stores don’t have change to give us right now.

Meanwhile, we run our errands, wondering apprehensively whether we’ll be drawn into — or, in our bad/belligerent mood, pick — an altercation over mask-wearing or social distancing or the lack thereof. And we wonder how much the price of paper towels will go up or whether we’ll ever see a particular brand of wipes again. And we hope fall doesn’t somehow bring another run on bathroom tissue.

It’s not just the pandemic-related matters that make autumn, the season that excites so many of us, one big question mark. We wonder if

we’ll be picked on for the color of our skin or draw the ire of members of one group if we are a member of another. As the election draws closer, we wonder whether we’ll draw someone’s ire for “looking” like a Democrat or a Republican. (At least there will be no crowded theaters in which to yell “Trump!” “Biden” or “Fire!”)

And there’s the granddaddy of all election questions: How messy will this election be, what with the mail-in vote issue?

Whew. Never before has there been a better time to simply heed the advice to take one day at a time.

Growing up a church chick, I became well familiar with Matthew 6:34 in the New Testament. The New Living Translation of the Good Book states it plainly: “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

“OK, that’s what worries me,” some may be muttering. “I’ve got troubles today, then tomorrow is gonna bring more trouble.”

Here’s my thing: You don’t want to use a charge card to pay for going nuts. Don’t overload your system by borrowing the next day’s worries … even if every day for the past six months has been a challenge.

Not to discount the concerns of those who have lost jobs, businesses and income; have had “Raiders of the Lost Ark”-type experiences trying to access now-reduced unemployment benefits, and are genuinely concerned about how they’ll make ends meet.

Matter of fact, here’s at least one solution for those of us worried about football games and where to get quarters for the car wash, and those of us who have no clue as to how to pay our bills and keep food on the table. Let the first group busy itself with paying some attention to the second group. Yes, with thoughts and prayers, but also with action too — whether it’s giving to food banks and other charitable organizations, or paying a “light bill” or buying a few groceries for somebody we personally know who’s in need.

While we’re at it, we can consider ourselves fortunate if we’re still standing, and healthy, today. Even if there continues to be nowhere to go and nothing to do and our football team canceled its season and the election looks like it’s going to be a hot mess and we still can’t find wipes.

One email at a time: hwilliams@adgnewsroom.com