Yesterday, Christians celebrated Christmas, the birth of Jesus. As a Christian, for me, this means that the Creator chose to become human, and ultimately, our teacher and uniter.

Tom Adams
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Yesterday, Christians celebrated Christmas, the birth of Jesus. As a Christian, for me, this means that the Creator chose to become human, and ultimately, our teacher and uniter.
Last week, I wrote about developing the habit of awe and wonder. I connected this habit with the celebration of Hanukkah and the Winter Solstice. Today I am looking at the Christian belief in Jesus and his birth on Christmas, and the possibility of a time of awe and wonder for all who choose it.
This morning I was up early and read Richard Rohr’s daily meditation, Richard Rohr is a Franciscan friar, ecumenical teacher and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation. Today’s meditation is entitled The Spiritual Practice of Awe. The meditation draws from the book This Here Flesh: Spirituality, Liberation and the Stories that Make Us by Cole Arthur Riley.
On Sunday evening, after a delightful holiday weekend, I learned of the sudden death of a 41-year-old friend. I couldn’t believe it. Numbness blocked my tears. I sat in shock.
Last week my post explored the power of gratitude and the simple act of making a gratitude list. I found myself paying attention to the many beautiful moments that brought me gratitude, and the more difficult moments that compete for my attention. This week’s post explores the connection between gratitude, family, and community.
Thanksgiving is a great time to reflect on gratitude and its relevance to daily life. I have had periods of my life where the word gratitude would make me angry and nauseous. Apologies – maybe that is a little dramatic. You get the point. Some years there didn’t seem to be much to be grateful for.
I am back from a trip to New York to continue research on Bill and Lois Wilson. My friend and colleague Joy Jones and I are writing a book about Bill and Lois Wilson and how their marriage changed the world. We have a working draft of the book. We are now in the tedious part of making sure the story makes sense, is accurate and advances our hopes in writing the book.
I find myself appalled at the latest mass shooting in Lewiston, Maine. The horror of so many people innocently gunned down in a bowling alley and restaurant sends terror to my heart. I couldn’t help but think on the way to the store last night that no one is safe any place.
About eighteen months ago, a new friend wished me “traveling mercies” as Geraldine and I were heading off on a trip. I had not heard the term before and wondered what she meant. At first, I thought it was a prayer for gentleness and compassion for self and traveling companions when the inevitable travel fatigue and resulting crankiness occur. But I came to appreciate that traveling mercies were more than that – they were graces or blessings that occur during travel. And they often remind us of how much love and grace there is in our life every day.
September is National Recovery Month. Granted, Recovery Month is less well-known than Black History Month or Gay Pride Month. I almost missed it again this year, but for a friend who mentioned it. Last week in reflecting on the Celebration of Life for my brother John, I commented on the sense of community at the gathering of his friends and our family. More specifically I commented on the love in the room and how my ability to see, feel and give love continues to grow as I age.