There is a small forest near my home that I love to walk in at dusk. The trail is well-worn. My feet know the way by heart. Why do I choose this trail time and again? There are certainly ones that are more peaceful and full. Maybe it's because God and I have done a lot of business there together. I've looked for His divine presence in the soft pine needles on the earthen floor on more than one occasion. I've added a lot of tearful prayers to the sounds of gently swaying trees as night falls…

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As you read this, there's a good chance I'm currently trudging through boot-high snow with my arms weighed down by wrapped packages and Christmas treats. I'll also likely be shivering and complaining about the cold wind lifting the hairs on my neck. I'll be putting on a brave face, mustering up some deep courage, and tilting my head back every so slightly so my salty tears go back from where they came…

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I cannot remember a time in my life where I have heard the word peace more often than I have in the last few years. It seems everyone everywhere is longing and calling for peace.

Maybe you've heard it in the cries of Canadian protestors who took to the streets over police brutality, racism, and the uncovering of the unmarked graves of Indigenous children. "No justice, no peace"…

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Joy to the world!

It might be a cold and broken hallelujah, but it's a hallelujah nonetheless.

We made it.

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