practical help and service to the people throughout the small mountain community where our old family farm sits, nestled by a creek. Affectionately nicknamed The Mayor, the whole community depended on him.
But I knew he wouldn’t come and I did not set a place for him at the table.
This conversation was like the miracle of harvest emerging from the stubborn mountain soil.
Are you the shut-up one,or the one trying to pry another shut-up heart open this holiday?
May you have the courage to take the risk, have the conversation, whether you are the fencepost, or the one hugging it.
Won’t you share with me how you are finding comfort for a grieving heart this Christmas season?