Finding the Words
2018 was *not* my year. Between personal, professional and financial difficulties, I struggled in every way. Including with my faith; and with my writing. I hadn’t realized before how deeply connected the two were. Have you read any of my stuff? Yeah, I bet you didn’t see a connect there either. But it seemed the further I felt from God, the harder it was to reach inside and pull out anything creative. It was hard to care about something that felt, for the first time ever, useless. I’ve had moments, years even, in my life where I was too busy, or too scared, to pursue my dream but I still wrote in those moments. I never walked away from that, I just did it for me. In many ways, to keep myself sane, it often felt. Until this year when I couldn’t string a sentence together and wasn’t bothered by the lack. I could barely generate an interest in reading, my second favorite activity. As Christmas approached, I began to feel a loss. A yearn for mass, for ritual and rite, for the feel