There in the deep sack of night, a tiny Hope was born. 

Before I birthed my baby, he was a possibility, a kick against my insides. With that first cry, first breath, he became a person in the world.

We are grateful to mark time with seasons, to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries, or to gather as family to remember our loved ones. In all these seasons, may we give thanks for the breath of life, ever mindful of the fragile nature of existence. May we live fully in each moment....

Tell me the story of my birth, and help me understand how you were changed the day I entered the world. Help me know love, deep in my bones.

I am always in a bit of a shock when December 1st arrives on the calendar. I always feel like there should be at least another week beyond Thanksgiving before I can even contemplate the next holiday....

Waiting to be born, again, into the morning, onto the day, from dark warm comfort, of my bed full of sleep and blankets, back into bright spring-scented air with all its life and branches....

The womb of stars embraces us; remnants of their fiery furnaces pulse through our veins. We are of the stars, the dust of explosions cast across space. We are of the earth: we breathe and live in the breath of ancient plants and beasts....