2026

Dear Friends,

The continuing freeze of this winter in New England has seeped into the walls and attitudes in our house. I find myself getting tense and rigid in response to the cold that does not stop. That will not stop! I know we all have different tolerances of temperatures, so I try to stir up some self-compassion and “just keep going.” I try to accept myself, as I pull out the heating pad and extra blanket when we watch TV. “Everything is going to be OK, here you go sweetie.”

Life in 2026, personally and communally, seems to need extra reassurance – heating pads and blankets are just a start. I find myself making an extra phone call or text. The connections give me comfort and, I’m thinking, offer that to others. At the same time, it feels like I’m hibernating. I’m experimenting with soups, wearing comfortable clothes and allow naps when they come calling. Again, this is, for me, a form of self-compassion – choosing ease, slowing down and adding a dash of creativity!

I cannot write of my life without an awareness of our shared life in America. The extreme demands on our minds and hearts, to make sense of current events, are overwhelming and heart breaking. There is no sense to be made. Yet, I’m still alive and aware. How do I navigate the massive change in my experience as an American? I return to self-compassion. I return to feeling good about putting the dishes away and feeling acceptance when I put it off for a day. I’m doing the best I can. I return to hope, “hope not made of wishes but of substance,” as Jan Richardson describes it. I close, dear friends, with her Blessing of Hope. May we be nourished by her images and words, may hope be a part of who we are on this new day, every day. Peace, Lisa

So may we know
the hope
that is not just
for someday
but for this day—
here, now,
in this moment
that opens to us:

hope not made
of wishes
but of substance,

hope made of sinew
and muscle
and bone,

hope that has breath
and a beating heart,

hope that will not
keep quiet
and be polite,

hope that knows
how to holler
when it is called for,

hope that knows
how to sing
when there seems
little cause,

hope that raises us
from the dead—

not someday
but this day,
every day,
again and
again and
again.

—Jan Richardson
from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

Dear Friends,

Years ago, when our young family created new traditions for Advent and Christmas in the Berkshire winter, we added a sweet moment for Epiphany. Our little guys, wrapped in navy blue bathrobes with Burger King crowns on their heads, processed down the hall from bedroom to living room. Each carried a toy to donate for another and, together, we all sang “We Three Kings.” Instinctively, their hands held these gifts out before them as the melody unfolded: Star of wonder, Star of night, Star with royal beauty bright. Westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light”

This year’s Epiphany finds us still in New England, Beseck Lake is frozen and covered with snow – an expanse of white and stillness before me. I wonder, what gifts do I carry to the Christ child? How do I find the Star in my sky? Where is it leading me? My invitation to our sons to reenact the Wise Men’s pilgrimage was an innocent desire to share the mystery of Christian tradition and today, decades later, I return.

And I remember… their long journey from far away lands revealed the powerful reach of the Light of Christ. These travelers crossed boundaries and expectations, made choices and exceptions to open their hearts before this Light, to kneel in reverence and protect the truth. In doing so, the revelation  of Infinite Love was made available to all traditions and cultures, to all hearts, traveling through all doubts and tending to all wounds.

The celebration of these early manifestations of Christ date back to early 2nd and 3rd centuries, January 6 was established in 336 AD by the early church. For these hundreds and hundreds of years, cultures around the world created rituals to live out this understanding, this Epiphany. My contribution is to honor the journey inward, and to answer the questions, “By what name, do I call the Star in the sky?” “What do I receive as I kneel before the Christ?” “How am I called to share Light in this world?” How are you, dear friends? How are you being called on this journey of Wonder?

In peace, Lisa