Two Sundays ago, I cried at church. I guess “cry” isn’t a strong enough term for the catharsis that happened in one of the rooms of our children’s area…maybe “wept” would be a better description. 

I’d like to think I’ve lived long enough now that I really understand the cycle of things. I don’t mean that I can intellectually discuss “life” or that I might mentally say “this is how things are,” but instead, that deep within my soul, I possess true comprehension, acceptance — peace, even — about how it all works. I’d like to think that by now, in my mid-30s, I wouldn’t be surprised or concerned by the largely unsettled or unresolved status of different aspects of my life. 

I sometimes find myself idly wondering how long the actual incident lasted. 7 seconds? 12? I know in moments of crisis, time seems to stand still, and those critical seconds of a traumatic experience seem to stretch much longer in our minds than they do in reality. 

Looking back, I know it didn’t last as long as I felt it did. The number of seconds could probably be shown with the ten fingers of my two hands. I spend 8-10 seconds everyday performing an infinite variety of different tasks, and very few of those short bursts of time ever impact me beyond the moment. But in this case, it’s incredible how a single digit number of seconds has been imprinted upon my memory and impacted my life forever. 

While this blog is usually reserved for the occasional posts I am able to write, I wanted to share about an exciting opportunity I have received. With the Christmas season quickly approaching, I have had the privilege of writing this year’s advent devotional for Well-Watered Women. Before I share a little about this advent, I wanted to first give insight into the vision behind it.