Light floods the pane, and if I didn’t know better, I might think it was July.
But I know it’s January, not just because I’m bundled under a down comforter with heart-printed knee socks. I know it’s January, but not because snow as fine and shimmery as glitter lazes down from a cloudless sky like a misplaced promise.
I know it’s January because everywhere I turn, folks are talking about change. We’re desperate for a fresh start and new mercies.
Click here to continue reading about what we really need in the New Year, and always. (I'm also sharing the sweetest, best story about my life as a neighbor.)