A Christmas Letter to You

I have a hunch you have a lot going on this week. With Christmas tomorrow and New Years just around the bend, many of us are traveling, gathering, and hopefully…connecting.  

I’m reminded of how lonely this time of year can be as well.  I’ve had many seasons of life where the holidays were, very truly, bleak.  So I can’t help but write you today and check in.  As an Enneagram type 4, that sensitive ache is never too far off, for better or worse.  I say yes to the ache, though.  Without it, I forget how fragile and thin life’s veil is.  I learned that big time with my cancer diagnosis.  

Interestingly, I feel more connected to you as I connect to my own human frailty. This is why the practice of self-compassion is so beautiful and spacious. It invites our pain and suffering to have a voice, knowing that this is the connective tissue of this being human.  It doesn’t shut that voice out  in the cold, though. It leans in, curiously, with kindness—so as to alleviate that felt pain and loneliness. It says, “I see you, friend.  I see your pain—the weight of your heavy burden—and I love you no matter what.  I’ll stay awhile with you.”  

This season, consider someone in need.  Who might be alone?  Who may be hurting?  As you enter into the spirit of the season, invite them there with you, even in the prayer chamber of your heart.  What a powerful message we send to the world as we create space in our hearts for the ones who are broken…We overcome scarcity with generosity—lack with abundance.  

I pray this week, you would hear more love than noise, see more light than sorrow, feel more joy than fear.  In the quiet hours of the morning, I pray that you sense a palpable belonging.  

Merry Christmas, Love.