A friend gave me twenty-six seashells. Each is beautiful, complex, and unique. They are unexpected gifts found in unexpected places to be received, treasured and shared. The twenty-first shell.
Nine months it’s been.
Today marks my ninth “monthiversary” (word credit to Seymour) of leaving New Mexico, saying goodbye to my hometown and family, and saying hello to these months of wanderings.
Today is also the eve of Christmas. Tomorrow we celebrate the first very human breath of a life fresh from nine months in the very human womb of a young woman.
A lot happens in nine months.
Here is the hope and expectation of Advent at its height. Bated breath. The insulated silence of the first true snowfall outside the window, there’s a stillness gently breathing beneath the holiday happenings. A suspension of sorts. A pause.
This is the best part.
