Unwrapping Christmas
As I dressed myself for a December Sunday service at herchurch, a place where Divinity was called Mother and Grandmother and Gaia, I saw in the mirror my sinewy, grandmotherly body. Its muscle memory recalled for me the awe of holding my daughters newly born, their faces slightly bloodied and swollen from pushing through the tight circumference of my womb that had so painfully opened itself for their passage to the world. The awareness that every human being had come through
