I found it in a garden. Trimmed away from a bush, ready to be disposed of. Who knew it would become my favorite souvenir from the Holy Lands.   A clipped bit of a thorny bush, heaped in a pile with other thorny clippings, ready to be hauled off. It’s a seemingly insignificant little bit of thorns and yet to me, it’s an important part of Holy Week.

We grieve what we love.   It’s that simple and that difficult. If we do not love something, we may be bummed or disappointed. When we grieve the loss of something deeply meaningful? It’s excruciating pain. We wonder if it is possible to keep going. When we allow ourselves to experience the deepest love we can imagine, we are opening up ourselves for the most hurtful pain and suffering. We can’t have intense love without potentially exposing ourselves to the most hurtful pa

Recently, I read the most interesting statement. One that has sat with me the rest of the week. Words that I have returned to so many times. The words “listen” and “silent” have the same letters. They are just in a different order.

Today’s the day. Maybe you think of it as another Hallmark holiday. It’s Valentine’s Day. A day filled with so much emotion, anticipation, expectation. It’s wonderful to see the ways people want to celebrate love. I’ve talked with plenty of guys this week who are totally uncomfortable picking out something for their special someone. How many times have I heard, “You know this stuff better than do. Just pick out something pretty.” Yep, I can do that.  

Today, I’m sharing a way that you can elevate how you view Christmas cards.