12/20/2025
We sit on the cusp of the Winter Solstice—
the shortest day of the year.
This morning I spent my time preparing for a wedding ceremony I will officiate tomorrow.
A wedding of hope.
We will gather outdoors, nestled in the mountains of Schuylkill County, on the shortest day of the year—
with the ancient promise of light returning.
This is the marriage of a dear friend and her beloved.
Two adults who have walked long and winding roads.
They are no strangers to sorrow.
And yet, when I sit with them, what I hear is seasoned joy—
a deep, lived-in gratitude that only comes from having loved, lost, and chosen again.
As I look at the altar I created for them, I’m holding this truth close:
joy and sorrow, grief and gratitude are not opposites.
They mix.
And if we are open to it,
the rich flavor that emerges becomes a gift—
to our own lives
and to all those who walk beside us.
If this season finds you holding both…
if you’re standing at your own threshold as the year turns…
you’re not alone.
On Monday, December 22, I’m offering a gentle Make Space for Grief gathering—
a place to pause, breathe, and tend what’s tender as the light slowly returns.
An invitation, if and when it feels right. Details in the comments.