"Watch for the light: Readings for Advent and Christmas" book cover against a Christmas tree background

Why I’m Not Doing Advent Photos This Year and What I’m Doing Instead

“What will you be doing for Advent this year?” a friend asked me. She knew that for the past three years, I have engaged in an Advent Photo-a-Day practice, reflecting on a prompt word each day and capturing it in a picture.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “It hurts too much. My heart is still tender from the grief of my dad’s passing.”

In previous years, the season of Advent had been a source of joy and consolation for me. I looked forward to the anticipation and the gentle, dark time of waiting. Advent had always been a time of finding hidden beauty. This year, however. This year was different. I couldn’t even think about Advent without tears welling up and my chest feeling like it had exploded. Or maybe imploded. Oh, what a raw place.

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The Hardest Part About The Transition to Two Kids

There were many difficult things about the first year with two children. There was the adjustment of trying to split our attention to meet the needs of both kids. There was the challenge of trying to get sufficient rest when they’d take turns being awake during the day and then take turns waking us up at night. There was the strain on our marriage and trying to stay connected when each of us barely coped with our own responsibilities. There was the seemingly futile fight against germs as colds got passed around and around in the winter months. But as I thought about it, I realized that the hardest part of the transition for me wasn’t something external. It was asking for and accepting help.
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courage-is-admitting-when-youre-your-own-worst-enemy

Courage is: Admitting When You’re Your Own Worst Enemy

[“Courage Is” is a guest post series of readers sharing their personal stories of courage and what it means to live courageously. This is Laura W.‘s story.]

I’ve struggled with body image issues and being significantly overweight since about grade 4. When classmates started to notice (and care) that I was heavy, I started to get made fun of for it. Kids can be mean. They said things no one should have to hear, and even wrote things on bathroom walls for me to find during breaks between high school classes.
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