For many, Christmas arrives wrapped in twinkling lights, warm gatherings, and a sense of anticipation. But beneath the glow, there’s often a quieter, heavier reality that doesn’t make it onto greeting cards. This season has a way of magnifying both joy and pain. It brings reminders of what we have—and what we’ve lost.

If you’ve ever felt a twinge of dread when the holidays approach, you’re far from alone.

In the season ahead, there are so many opportunities for meaningful conversation. Sometimes we come to a conversation ready to judge, to criticize, to compare….

What if each of us took the time to set aside those harsh responses and choose to listen well and acknowledge the person in front of you for who they are, for the challenges they face and for the way they make a difference, (even if it’s not your way)…..?

It is often easy to forget the quiet power of acknowledgment.

It feels like life has been particularly heavy for so many people this summer.
There are countless hard stories of loss and displacement—at a time when many of us anticipate a bit of summertime reprieve.

I’d like to share a few thoughts from that season—both to help you navigate your own valleys and to strengthen the way you walk alongside others through theirs.

Feeling overwhelmed?

You’re not alone. Whether it’s the news, work, personal commitments, or the sheer volume of life’s demands, overwhelm can leave you feeling stuck and exhausted. But the good news is—you can come back to calm….and compassionate. 

As the days grow shorter and darkness wraps itself around our evenings, this time of year can feel heavy for many. The dim light and colder air often mirror an inward pull, drawing us into reflection—or sometimes restlessness. Yet, in this physical darkness lies an invitation to discover the profound power of focus, particularly on what many might overlook: the glimmers of joy, gratitude, and meaning that illuminate our lives in surprising ways.

Perhaps you are going through an upheaval in your life?

What do we to do with this season of festivities, that emphasize thanksgiving and gratitude when we are carrying a bucket full of pain?

Secondary wounding is the term for the pain we experience when we do not find the support we need after a traumatic event. This kind of wounding may actually be psychologically more isolating and painful than the initial loss.

In our 21st century culture, we have designed lives that are surrounded by conveniences and comforts. Challenging emotions are neither comfortable or convenient.

What do we do when life hands us confusion, suffering, loss or betrayal?

What do we do with Thanksgiving if we are in the thick of deep pain?

What if growing into the new version of ourselves, a metamorphosis of sorts, requires that we find a way to hold both pain and gratitude at the same time?