Advent is here. We are straining forward each day with anticipation. But still, this season of darkness and yearning is upon me. The early day’s sun retreats leaving a smattering of white twinkling lights strung in rows across the tree like fingerprints. The candle’s flesh is melting down its sides like shedding skin and it flickers like a great hope in the darkness. I can’t help but feel my depression is an assault on God’s goodness trying to blind me to everything but the most vulgar and …
a student of grace, seeking wonder, becoming fluent in the language of hope
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