My Christmas story

a note for your wait that continues after Christmas

I hear the rustling of an eager seven-year-old in the bedroom above what we affectionately call my “prayer room” as I type by the flicker of candlelight on this still-dark morning.

Next to my chair sits a gift — a catalyst for this unplanned morning note to you, my friends in this more-private space. This morning you came to mind as I considered the wait…