Oh, today. You were welcomed early after a short night. You began with a slow burn and ended with embers of a life mid-unmaking.

Today, we made plans for how to proceed with the intentional religious instruction of our family as we search for a community in which we can be safe and really be present moving forward.

Today, we made a mess decorating for Christmas because the twinkling pinpoints of hope are desperately needed right now.

Today, we both relaxed and leaned into the discomfort of the changes that have come and are still happening.

I cried in the wee dark hours of the morning, grieving the losses of so many friends. I celebrated the courage of a friend I haven’t known long. I ate the most delicious cookies and was thankful for the kind care of a new friend. And I laughed over the most ridiculous things with the oldest and dearest friend of my adult life.

If the day you had was one that also contained mountains and valleys… I see you. If you’re ending the night unsure of what tomorrow will bring… I see you. If everything seems messy as things come together… I see you.

Our house is much brighter than it has been in many years. But tonight, it’s all lights on duty. I’m holding onto hope.

I can hold on for you, too. If you just can’t, I get it. I’ve been there. Tonight, I have enough light to share. Some pinpoints of steady light, some changing in seemingly random ways, some constantly shifting but in predictable ways… sometimes hope is defiant. And sometimes, it’s okay to sit in the darkness and just watch for what’s next.

I love you, friends.