New Years Day feels tender this year. I let myself linger in bed a little longer this morning; not really wanting to move from old to new. The past two years held so much change, so much thrashing, trying to figure it out. On good days we were barely falling forward. So I don’t want to move too quickly. I want to wait there in my bed, holding my breath wishing I knew what the year held. The New Year seems to always hold this question in her hands, “What now?” I’m staring back at her with uncertainty, doubt, …

I’m in a season of letting go, of laying down some things which are no longer mine to carry.  And just when I think I have finally won the battle, I realize I’m carrying it again.  I can see myself walking back towards God.  My face is down. I know better. I remind myself of my King Charles when she fishes something out of the trash. Just when I start to walk by, she looks up at me with those eyes. I don’t even have to say a word before she gently opens her mouth and let’s the thing fall …