Holly Rutchik - Minivan Matriarch, Author

I crawled into bed last night to set up camp and join a Zoom with Mary Katherine Backstrom The Tyler Merritt Project Father Nathan Monk and about 100 other cheese balls to talk all things storytelling. The world needs the truly grity, broken and beautifully flawed of the personal to tap into the universal. I often get asked why I made the career switch from theology/ministry to writing and the answer is simple- I see them as one and the same. It was so refreshing to share space with and learn from others who believe we make things better through story, even when we disagree on what better means. It all begins with story and everyone's is needed.

Happy Birthday to our sweet baby, Emanuel E., who was born 14 years ago tonight. I went into labor at Mass in a small church in Nevada, during the reading of The Visitation. A few days later, on Christmas Eve, we snuck our baby's remains onto a flight home to WI. The ground had to be plowed and thawed to bury our sweet babe that winter, and we were advised to see a geneticist who had the capabilities to help us create a baby - one that could be male and free from LDS. We declined. That summer, on our anniversary (and the Feast of St. Monica) we found out we were expecting another baby. We were gifted a girl, ElenaJane Monica, who has LDS. Laney's struggles are numerous, and her cross is heavy. She is also a bright, shining light who is exactly who the world, and our family needs.
This image of The Visitation (gifted to me by Joseph) hangs in our home as a visual reminder that joy can crawl out of the darkest and most broken places to surprise us at any time. Yes, darkness and heartbreak have come for our family since, as they do for all families. But, like our faith, this image remains on display in our home. A daily nudge that faith calls us to keep our eyes open and fixated on God, even when they're swollen and weary.
There is joy for anyone who seeks it. We just need to look for it. "There's always room for one more," has always been a family motto of ours. The Christmas story teaches us there is always an abundance of all we need. Faith. Joy. Room. We just have to open the door and invite it in - even when our souls are dark and stormy, and our home is messy. There's room for light. May we all let it in.

Me: Not one of you puts the strainer away in its proper place!
Kids: yeah we do!
Me: Exibit A: photo of annoyed mother, in the wild of her kitchen, 5 weeks post hiding candy in said proper place.
Note: all candy still accounted for.
Not found: strainer.

**mother only participates in science experiments under extreme distress and for the sole purpose of proving petty points to children**

Put it on as a joke while doing Tessa's Ursula makeup. Am oddly kinda here for it.....