Skip to main content

Year End-ish Post

I've been "keeping advent" this season in the way one might keep the Sabbath or Lent -- intentionally under scheduling, decluttering, opting out of historic holiday obligations, fasting -- and I think it's having an effect. All this advent keeping makes me long for the feasting of Christmas. I eagerly yearn for Monday when all heaven breaks loose to celebrate Christ's advent on earth.

Advent keeping has also allowed me to be still and recognize patterns that have played out over the last year. 2023 has been tough. I wonder who else feels this; I know I'm not alone in feeling the weight of an unpredictable world. My very body tells the tale of stress and years of inattention as I work through intense lower back pain. Vocationally I've strained toward product-market fit with Empowered Together's marketplace. I'm left longing for a co-laborer in this effort. While I remain deeply grateful for my family, I feel the pressures of parenting a child with a disability. Some of those pressures are to be expected (eg; lacking sleep) and some are less talked about (eg; addressing the mental health needs of all family members, creating beauty out of our story).

Where does this leave us? Assuming that you, too, have things you'd like to lay down in 2023, it leaves us yearning for newness, for celebration, for hope. It leaves us exactly where advent is meant to leave us, yearning for a Savior. As seemingly unseasonal as advent keeping has been, I need this wintering time of inspecting each arena of my life for how it integrates with the rest, of reflecting on my need for salvation. If you, too, are feeling pulled towards quiet and introspection to make sense of your life, to make sense of the world, join me in keeping advent.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Rare Disease Day 2024

Today's Rare Disease Day. There's sometimes a particular weightiness to life with a rare disease. All the appointments, emergencies, traumas, doctors, therapists, medicines, opinions, schedules and upset schedules. My touchpoint is being mom to my precious girl with Wiedemann-Steiner Syndrome  (WSS). You'd have to spend a day or week shadowing me to know what it's really like. Doesn't that sound alienating? As though you couldn't possibly imagine if you're not living it? Well, maybe. But think about a time of immense grief you've lived through, or a time when your world seemed to be falling apart around you and it felt like everyone else was completely unaffected. I suppose it's a bit like that. You might have thought that those around you couldn't possibly know how that experience felt to you. A couple weeks ago, I started keeping a list of all the extraordinary things that happened in my life due to my daughter's rare disease. I learned a c...

Startup Day 875: piloting in New Haven

Iteration is emblematic of startups. For example: From last year's pilot , we learned that parents and adults with disabilities were looking for recommended resources.  We built the Empowered Together app and tried crowd-sourcing those recommendations.  In our New Haven pilot, we're bringing database building in-house by listing accessible food, arts, and recreational businesses in greater New Haven.  Thankfully, we have thought partners in this endeavor at the City of New Haven and at community disability orgs. We are working with a Quinnipiac student and awaiting word on additional grant funding. We're taking the right next step in changing the social system to be accessible and inclusive of People with Disabilities.

How I Got a Blister from a Cowbell

The bullhorn sounded and he was off, swimming his heart out, across a 50m stretch of lake as deep as his arm is long. My youngest, William, competed in his third year of the  Race4Chase  triathlon in August. When we first applied, I reflected on how I hoped this triathlon camp would allow Will to do something that was entirely his. It would be an opportunity to spread his wings apart from his sister's influence. For siblings of kids living with disabilities, this kind of autonomy is life giving. Back at the lakeside, I was watching Will from a distance and ringing a cowbell like no ones business. Will ran up from the waterfront and we cheered him on. He transitioned to the bike portion and we cheered him on. When he came into view at the end of the bike and transitioned to the run, the final segment of the race, we cheered him on. All the while, that cowbell was clanging. When Will sprinted across the finish line, there was no stopping him (or the cowbell). Thinking about...