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Dear Reader,

In the silence of cold winter nights and the hush of snowy winter days, I often find myself thinking about Christ’s birth, about the way it must have felt to be Mary or Joseph or the shepherds in their fields. None of those people were rich or beautiful or well liked by the world. They were poor and humble and even despised.

The Christmas story is told so often, depicted so frequently, that it is easy to become immune to it, to forget how miraculous the birth of Christ was, how life changing, how world changing. The message of His birth and life and resurrection is not one of divisiveness and hate, but one of love. This Christmas season, I hope you have a chance to slow down and look around, to see with fresh eyes the beauty of the world you live in. Take a walk through an icy forest, explore snow-covered paths or—if you live in warmer climates—stand on the beach and look at the vastness of the ocean and the sky. He is there with you, my friend, in all that great and wild beauty, and in the smallest, darkest place in your heart.

Blessings,

Shirlee McCoy