Fear not, the angels would text me. Hallelujah, I’d write back.

It’s as if something was born from nothing.

Grief is welcome, a sacred part of the mourning.

May we continue to find ways to connect while keeping safe this holiday season.

Each Advent, my empathy for Mary’s situation returns.

The stories remind us there is still and always joy in this world, but it usually comes right alongside the struggle.

This is a "love saves" story.

Every year, I tell the congregation not to worry about mistakes because there aren’t any; there is only us, telling an old story about love getting born into this aching world.

With a single generous gesture from my older child, her sister's belief in Santa stayed intact that year.

Everything is about to change. And it already has. It will be. It was. It is. The dawn you eagerly await to end the long, cold darkness is already full sun far off in the east. Yet even after light’s return spring is months away. Thirty long years pass after His birth before the Messiah comes.

The innkeeper isn’t part of most Nativity sets. No one sings carols about innkeepers. There don’t seem to be any paintings that include them. But we can imagine the scene: Bethlehem is crowded with people coming home for the census. It’s late at night when the innkeeper responds to a knock on...

In real life, sometimes grief looms largest in December. Sometimes there's one too many dress-ups and the gold tulle makes your legs itch. “I just needed it to stop for a minute. Next time I will take calm breaths.”

There's nothing simple about the holidays. Joy can feel empty when it is compulsory. The promise of liberation is hard fought and well earned.

Christmas is a risk for us to take. Shall we allow ourselves to be touched by sentiment? Awakened by song and story? Drawn into festivities, when our joy depends upon the goodwill of others? Dare we risk the disappointment of hopes raised high and excited expectations? May we have the courage to...

I like to think that after many years of living together, our family has developed a certain sense of equilibrium, a certain ease with each other. From time to time, of course, differences arise and sometimes, and, occasionally, an act of outright rebellion....

It’s been said that it’s easier to untangle a string of lights if you plug them in; it’s no different for people. Humans, just like strings of lights, are wired for connection.

An adequate Christmas would have you calm and open, taking it in, accepting whatever is. Slow it all down like you might be, in some way, attuned to the pace of the Eternal. If you need, you can fake it at first.

“If I ask you a question, do you promise to tell me the truth?" For future reference, if a child asks you this question at Christmas time, EVADE.

In times like these, we may seek a new word. But perhaps, in times like these, more than new words, we need old words. We made the journey back to Bethlehem; to the old story of a young, unwed, pregnant girl and her fiancé, Joseph, a poor, young carpenter. The Roman emperor, Caesar Augustus,...

As December opens up before us, we welcome in the gift of reflection.