The fox must’ve eaten the chickens in the henhouse at the blog. Some of you have been kind enough to notice and you’ve mentioned my absence to me. Thank you for your kind words of encouragement.

I’ve been in a general blog/life funk.  I’ve been feeling broken and incomplete. How could anyone who gets life so wrong, so often have anything worthwhile to contribute? What leaves me feeling like a smelly gym sock? Here’s a few thoughts:

When the better choice is patience, I choose quick action.

When the better choice is love, I’m judgmental.

When the wise choice is silence, I say too much.

When I should be praying, my hamster-brain paints worst-case scenarios.

I’m writing today, cause I’m remembering this blog isn’t about perfection. That’s right, chicken-wingers…’s about the journey! The hot-fudge-sundae-days AND the bug-on-the-windshield days. It’s about days like today when we offer ourselves and our neighbors another spin at the roulette wheel of life. The only required buy-in is a tiny mustard seed of faith.

We’re on a journey to Christmas. Walk with me and we’ll trek to a stable. Aren’t you glad we’re not traveling to a palace? Our comfy, car sweat-pants might not be appropriate attire to meet a child-king, but we look great for entering a stable. Dirty, worn-out boots are welcome. This stable is brimming with the real aromas of cows, horses, pigs, hay and ummm….ummm….animal doo. You won’t inhale the scent of the most fashionable $75 Diptyque ginger-pear candle in this stable.

graham and pnut

No worries about chipping the dried excrement off our shoes before entering. We’ve stepped in piles of it lately but the beauty is….we’re still welcome inside. The only thing is….that overstuffed backpack of regret we’ve struggled under?  It has to stay outside. Along with the stinky gym sock.

Let’s go.

Traveling mercy love to all.

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