To inspire and uplift, I want to share that I’m yes, I am going through profoundly challenging times, ones that have caused my spirit to cry here and there, as my last post on Facebook laid bare. It was about the tripled cost of healthcare that I got hit with around the holiday season? I was in tears.
It’s heartbreaking, a blow I dreaded, yet anticipated, but still arrived like an unwelcome shadow over the holidays. But to counter that raw sorrow, which left me weeping as I poured out my heart, let me offer this glimpse of spiritual beauty, a testament to the light that pierces even the darkest storms.
For Christmas, my soul yearned for nothing tangible from my beloved children. Year after year, I whisper to them:
“Don’t spend on me, cherish one another instead. If your heart calls you to gift a sibling, let that be your joy.”
For me, the truest treasure is simply their existence. It’s in witnessing their lives unfold, their roots entwining with mine, refusing to let distance erode our bond. They bring their partners into our circle, sharing half the week with me in laughter and presence, a quiet vow against the drift of time.
Yet they persisted, insisting I must desire something. But truly, the relationship that I have with Heaven, the profound love flowing from my students and my children, that boundless river sustains me. It’s everything to me. What greater gifts could I ask for? I already stand in awe of the divine gifts given to me: the intimate communion with the Lord, visions of foresight that unveil tomorrow’s details, visions that rewind the ancient past and yesterdays.
Right? What a richly layered life I’ve been granted, even if forged in the crucible of an abusive childhood where pain was my constant companion.
Yet God was my unwavering anchor, my eternal guide. He imparted every wisdom I hold. He taught me everything, talking to me as I went, explaining, guiding, teaching.
And he never limited the wisdom! From the art of mending pipes in plumbing, the spark of electrical work, the steady hand for laying floors and crafting with wood. He revealed the secrets of repairing a car, swapping a tire, gliding on ice skates, and even the ancient melodies of Hebrew speech. I’ll be more, far more, but those are just a few things for example.
Under His gentle tutelage, I embraced sign language, excelled into theology’s depths, saw visions of history’s enigmas through the ethereal Akashic records with reverence.
In my youth, when homelessness stripped me bare, I encountered souls from every shadowed corner, reading their souls, witnessing the insidious grip of negative spiritual forces. There’s no judgment. These individuals taught me so much about the world and all of the different characters in it. I’ve channeled celestial angels in the dawn of the new age, and with fierce resolve, I have even cast out demons that sought to devour good people. This existence has been a symphony of connections. I’ve met and loved hearts from diverse backgrounds, ethnicities, and paths, many transforming into family across distances, their love a purpose, for my soul.
Motherhood, that sacred calling, fulfilled a longing.
And though I’ve ached for a profound spiritual energetic romantic union, a soul-deep fusion with another, I find solace in the unbreakable tether to God and my children, a love so pure it eclipses all else.
Along this journey, I’ve discovered treasured best friends, kindred spirits who keep me wanting to continue on my way.
This year, my prayers to the Lord were humblerquests, my usualbut deeper: pleas for my students and their families to be enveloped in safety, intercessions for a world aching with need, and fervent hopes that my family remains united, enduring through survival’s trials. I’ve never beseeched for opulence or extravagance.
One Personal, Humble Request
But oh, I did ask for snow as I always do. Just ask the Lord just for that simple gift of seeing the magic of snow. I ask for it annually, and twice He already graced me with it this year. Once a week before my earthly birthday, another mere days prior, blanketing my world in quiet wonder. I recall when I used to go ice-skating as a girl, it was magnificent. I graced the ice like I could’ve done it professionally with my grace and skills in ballet. But I never went again. Not like that. It was during the New Jersey blizzard of March 1993 and my yard itself was ice rink, frozen over by the flooded rain just a few days before the blizzard hit. My father got me the ice skates from the flea market, and I asked the Lord to teach me how. He channeled guidance to me, as I learned, giving me strength to continue gliding across the ice as he told me, “pretend you’re flying”. I went soaring. I fell so many times, but the Lord told me in his loving fatherly voice, even with thunderous boom behind it, still tender: “Get back up. In life you will fall, you’ll believe, you’ll get hurt There was nobody there, just me and my Lord. i’ve gone ice-skating after that, but with rental skates that never felt right, and overly crowded rinks. I always promised myself on my bucket list that I will get to skate like that again at least one time. I think that wish might come true this year as well too. I’m not talking about the rental skates out there at the local rinks. I’m talking about true ice-skating. That’s something I hoped for too, humbly.
Knowing my love of snow and my annual request, my youngest, Alexander, returned from school with a snowman he crafted, a masterpiece so exquisite, it could grace any boutique shelf. My heart swelled to bursting, especially as he paired it with a snowman tale to read together, a shared story weaving holiday magic. He made it just in case the warming weather, didn’t bring me my only personal wish. How sweet!
Adriel, my darling girl, presented a soft teddy bear, while Alex added a delicate flower, blooming eternally in my memory. These tokens, I’ll nestle among my most cherished keepsakes, guardians of joy against time’s fade.
My Gift? Their Promise
For my elder children, my request was born of vulnerability: no crafts, no expenditures from strained pockets. Instead, amid the foreboding horizon of hardships ahead, I implored them to inscribe a promise on paper, that no matter the tempests, they would never forsake me.
Just their word:
“We’ll always be here.”
You see, my body wages a silent war against the surgical mesh from hernia repairs long ago. Though I’ve channeled extraordinary healings to nurture my well-being, removal looms inevitable. Why persist in mending what festers from within? Psychic surgery eludes such a vast intrusion in my abdomen, though I wish it could summon miracles. As healthcare burdens triple, threatening to engulf us, my deepest fear was abandonment. They’re getting older. when kids grow older, they move on. I didn’t want them to move on without me. Especially not during one of the hardest times of my life, should that be so, as I had seen in my visions ahead.
Yet they gifted me far beyond, a profound affirmation of eternal loyalty.
Amber, my daughter, forged a ring blending her birthstone with mine, crowned by an infinity symbol, whispering of forever. Inside, etched in Hebrew, one of my soul’s cherished tongues, her vow flows like ancient poetry, binding us across eternities.
Noah, my son, amid his own battles trying to find work, penned words of exquisite beauty on paper, a letter that moved me to tears.
Even more poignant: his girlfriend Lindsey, who cherishes me as her own mother, crafted her own pledge, subtle yet sincere, echoing the same unbreakable promise.
A heartfelt card from my friend Mark arrived, vowing unwavering friendship through every storm. What he wrote inside, aligned so much with what I was hoping to hear from all of my loved ones. Remarkable.
Then, reconnecting with Bella on the phone after too long, we and her daughter sorta exchanged mutual oaths of solidarity, saying we would always be here for each other.
A friend of mine named Robbie, even told me that while they couldn’t help me much with donations or financially, that he would always be there for me. That was a meaningful gift. And Tobias, never fails to show me love.
I even met one of my students in person for the first time, alone, feeling the depth of her presence, knowing she too, is family forever.
This holiday overflowed with emotion, a whirlwind of tears and triumphs. Amid terrors like soaring healthcare costs that chilled my core, foreshadowing greater struggles, I clung to the exquisite beauty of surrounding love, the fuel that propels me forward. My students’ gratitude for the wisdom and the hope that I’ve shared with them, and the promise of standing by me in the words and eyes of my children, an unbreakable fortress.
They’re getting a chance to take the children to see the magical. Nutcracker was a wonderful experience, but what meant more to me, were the words that I heard over this holiday season from the people that mean the most to me. What a beautiful promise to hear, that the people that love you the most, will never leave you, when it matters the most.
I’m also thankful for the snow that the Lord gives me. He truly never lets me down. Every year he gives me even just a little flurry, even if the week was warmer. It’s incredible how such a small little wish always comes true. I only hope that my prayers are answered for this upcoming year of 2026, not just for myself but for everyone else out there. I truly hope that things get better for everybody and that I can be an inspiration to many out there, of how to fight through trials and how to appreciate the beauty in your life while you do so. Life is so much more than physical, material, or monetary things, it’s a memories that you build, the bonds that you forge, and the true emotions that you share with others. But above all, it’s your belief and love of God that matters most, and creates all of that. Without him, it wouldn’t be as profound. 
Christmas 2025 really engraved itself into my soul as one of the most sentimental and meaningful, a memory I’ll cradle forever in gratitude and grace.
Spiritually Awkward 