The Lonely Season {at There Is a River}

As soon as I met Christie Purifoy, I knew that we would be friends. She was one of the very first people I spoke to at The Festival of Faith and Writing, and we hadn't gotten a sentence out each before we were talking about food. But there is more to it, of course, more shared in the hours and weeks and months in the meantime. She's a wonderful friend, and a beautiful, careful writer. (If you haven't already spent some time on her lovely blog, There Is a River, you're in for a treat).

When she asked me to contribute to her lovely Advent series, I agreed, and I sighed with relief, because I knew that I could put some of the pain I feel about this season into her cupped hands. She is trustworthy to hold these words of mine (as are you, my lovely readers).

And so I wrote out of a deep place of loneliness in my heart, about Elizabeth, and Mary, and me. Won't you join me there?