When I reflect on the Advent/Christmas season, I hate---or should I say loathe---and love many aspects of this time.

Even if we stay in Christian community, like I did, healing can take years. Sadly, that feeling of not belonging still runs deep in my veins. 

However, the feeling also developed into a blue hot flame like the one that once burned my arm. It now fires in my soul every day.

Souls are weary. But not my four quiet maples lit up like autumn campfires. They stand solid, silent, striking. My trees hold a clever model for caring soul care through connection, rhythm, and rootedness.

Guest post by Kate Motaung.

Dear Grief,

I shudder to refer to you as “dear.” Yet you have been with me for so long that you have become a part of me, which I suppose entitles you to this term of affection, though my heart grants it unwillingly. You are an enigmatic and elusive creature

Reflection, scripture, and works of art for the first Sunday of Epiphany. Christ comes into our lives as light itself, without fanfare: quietly, unexpectedly, in weakness, right into our disarray. Light has come into our humanity, showing us a new way to be human.