Well, we did it.
Christmas is officially over.
The last few days (amid the festivities) were fraught with ER visits, violent viruses, panic attacks and deep bone exhaustion.
They were also full of families who love deeply, selflessly, tirelessly and completely.
It was not my favorite year, for certain.
But we are here, we are all alive and mending.
There is the gentle buzz of the new record player and the makings of a butternut squash risotto spread out on the kitchen counter.
There are Christmas jammies, still donned, most likely not to be changed out of, all day long.
There is the quiet, gentle hope- the streak of sunlight, the lavender bath, the warmed vanilla milk.
The stirring- this too, shall pass.
The clutching with conviction, He is good.
He is always good.
And worthy to be praised.