Dear December,

I am glad you turned down our thermostat, just a little. I know you shine brightest on a cooler day. Strange how the changes between you and your sister month November are visible, even in the shifting of a few hours. The air is colder, the sun harsher, the trees just slightly barer. November seemed hesitant to part from Indian Summer this year, and her leaves were up past their bedtime. I did not mind, it was rather lovely, but I am glad you are here.

Glad you have come to remind us about waiting, and patience, and the quiet beauty of winter. So often I shrug off the dark cold for the noise and color of Spring, but you seem to speak to me despite the whispery hush of your voice.

"Have patience, small one, have hope."

And so I await the warmth of home, of family, and the coming of a little king. I do so wish that he could be here among us, in the midst of this broken world, that I could hold him in my arms. Imagine: a baby who brings salvation. How soft and sweet and clear is his message, how humbling to us power-thirsty human beings.

Thank you for the gifts of clarity and hope. May your days bring peace to all those who are so desperately in need of it.

Love,
Kristina