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It is a new year! Now granted I slept through its arrival, as I’m guessing many of you did, too. Sometimes staying up to midnight just feels like an unreasonable ask these days. But it is a new year nonetheless, and even though it comes without one freaking clue as to how exactly it is going to unfold, there is something beautiful to savor in the newness itself. The “let’s try to jumpstart this engine over again” sentiment. Or the “let’s make a new resolution” decision.

I’ve been looking back over the last couple days of Gospel readings again and there are all kinds of emotions easily imagined within the events described—surprise, joy, anger, uncertainty, probably some sadness. But there is only one emotion that everyone is told to avoid: fear. “Do not be afraid,” Zechariah, Mary, and Joseph are all told. And then later this week, the shepherds: “Do not be afraid.” What’s so bad about being afraid?

My family did something very funny last week via the mail. At first, I couldn’t figure out what was going on. My niece Lily sent me a sweet little note on half a piece of paper. The sweetness of the note didn’t surprise me. It was totally her. Even included a stick of Daniel the Tiger from Mr. Rogers. But the fact it was on half a piece of paper was puzzling. I thought that because she was in college and deeply involved in environmental efforts perhaps she was just trying to conserve paper.

This past week I asked the radiologist if some of my irritability and feistiness in the late afternoons might be caused by the radiation treatments I’ve been receiving. “Ummm. I think that only happens to the Hulk,” he replied.

Just wanting to double check, I asked, “So do you think I might be turning into the Hulk?” “Ummm. Probably not at this point,” he replied.

In anticipation of Advent’s beginning this year, Mike and I did a little bit of real estate shopping. No, we are not planning any immediate moves from our sweet home. And, no, we did not purchase a vacation home in the Florida Keys (tempting though that is as the weather starts to get colder). Rather, we purchased a 3 sq. ft. condo in the Ignatius House columbarium, top right-hand corner. We don’t know who most of our neighbors will be.

At the beginning of each atrium year, I cut up the leftover Sierra Club and Marian calendars that tend to multiply in my mailbox to give the children some nice pictures to paste onto the front of their atrium folder for the coming months. (FYI: In case you were wondering, young children love pasting. I’m not kidding. LOVE it.)

Yesterday morning, Micah went to the pharmacy to pick up my anti-leprosy pills. (Side bar comment from Micah: “Be assured that my mother is not suffering from leprosy but from an inability to separate the anti-seizure medication levetiracetam from its brand name Keppra leading her to call it ‘lepra’.”)

When I wrote last, I thought I’d be starting radiation and chemo on Oct. 27. For varying reasons I shall not bore you with, that did not happen, and will likely not happen this week either, though I’m assured I will start by Nov. 11 at the latest. What did happen this past week was lots of education about chemo and radiation and another MRI and the creation of a plastic mask of my head that my nephews might be interested in for a future Halloween.

Dear Ones – Again, SOOO much appreciation for your kindness the past couple weeks. My husband thinks maybe I should have made public that we like Door Dash years ago. But mostly both of us have felt so warmed by the prayer we can feel surrounding us right now. A couple people have asked if they can pray with me for a specific kind of miracle at this time. The answer to that is “yes,” but I’d like to share a little bit more about what kind of miracle I’d like to use this time praying for with you.

Dearest, dearest friends, you have been so kind and good to me this past week. Well, really the whole of my life, but especially so in this past week. Thank you for the comments posted here and then also the kind emails and cards, flowers, excellent chicken soup, and even the Bobble Head Pope Leo XIV. I tell you that every moment this week have I felt like I was surrounded by the most loving people in the world.