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I stood at the window, watching snow piling up in our front yard as a neighbor’s blinking Christmas lights invaded our dark living room. I fought back tears and crawled under a blanket on my sofa next to my snoring puppy. Lifting a steaming latte to my lips, I inhaled the vanilla and caramel sweetness and then exhaled a prayer. What do we have to celebrate this year, Lord?

Having recently had some work done in our bathroom, we’re having to change decades-long habits. For nearly twenty years I’ve dried my hands on the left-hand side of the sink but now to reach a towel I have to turn to the right. After so many years, my action is pretty automatic—now going the wrong way.