As a special needs parent, holidays often feel less than holy. Do you agree? For me, it could be our daughter’s self control rupturing at the seams. Or it could be the immense fatigue from doing-all-the-things only to continue to be “on” on the Sabbath/weekend, too. But God. We are met here.

Who cleans up the messes in your life? Have you ever thought about this before? While soaking soiled shirts and kissing injured knees and re-washing kitchen floors or counters or tables… while mending the errors in your colleagues work - or your own - and begging for relationships to be in a better place and space… Who is cleaning up? Who is nurturing you, nourishing you, tending to the flame of your spirit and soul?

What does it mean to be an expert in living with chronic disease? And why must we be experts in anything that feels (at times) so unholy? Hint: maybe it's okay to resist this space. Maybe it's okay to honor and resist.