We’re here. It’s December. I’m not just reflecting on the year, but watching it come to a close.
With this time of the year comes all of the Christmas finery, from a surplus of cookies to extravagant decorations all over the house. It’s familiar, fun, and something we look forward to every year. Tradition isn’t just the history of theology, it’s repetition of the same beloved words and actions for years and even generations. And at Christmas, it’s at its finest. 

November is the time when I realize every year, “Oh wait, the year is almost over. AGH!” Whether that means I frantically begin Christmas shopping or bask in the beauty of the life I have been given, November is the time I like to start looking back and thinking over the year. How did I grow? What was hard? What was wonderful? 
This year has been hard. But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been good or beautiful. In fact, I think the hard years are the years in which we can more readily trace the faithfulness of God. 

It’s officially autumn. This morning when I woke up, the world was cold. Like, 36° cold. My morning walk was not as comfortable as usual. 
But with the cold comes beautiful autumn colors and crunchy fallen leaves. To quote Anne of Green Gables, “I am so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

It’s a wet evening. There’s a cricket chirping rhythmically in the tree outside of my second story window. The sounds of sirens racing by occasionally interrupt the peace but for the most part, it is quiet.
I stop typing. Listen to the hum of the refrigerator. The cricket… I think I’ll call him Terrance.
Deep breath.
This newsletter? It’s the start of something new.