Merry Christmas.

My heart is in my throat. This happens every year. A quiet church. Candles. Silent Night. Graffiti. Every small thing brings me to tears.

Among the tinsel, shine and fa la la, this holiday carries a weight I can never fully explain.

Perhaps it is the season’s steady expectation. Or more likely, it’s an inner tug toward something inexplicable, a sort of reverence that recognizes the heft and marrow of all the things we cannot buy: faith, love, trust.

While love is most often “patient and kind” it can also feel steep and rocky, full of missteps and mumblings.

But we keep trying.

We dust off, sweep up, stand tall. For no reason, for every reason, we give our hearts — expecting nothing, and everything, in return.

Please, let us keep giving, keep loving, keep on.

With appreciation,

Drew