Waiting

Brown paper packages appear under the non-traditional tree.

I sip caramel macchiatos in coffee shops in the afternoon.

Gerry spends time in the garage with a table saw.

I light three candles: for hope, peace, and joy.

It gets starts to get dark at three o’clock.

Shortbread calls from the freezer.

Canada Post comes through.

All is calm, all is bright.

And still, no snow.

We wait.

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I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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