“When I say, “I hope this email finds you well,” what I mean is this: I hope you get to drink your coffee before it gets cold. I hope you’re in a sweet season of life. I hope you witness a miracle. I hope something good happens to you. I hope you see a dog. I hope you’re quick to remember grace. I hope you choose beauty over bitterness. I hope you hear Africa by Toto while caught in traffic — or Sk8r Boi by Avril Lavigne. I hope you cling to mercy. I hope you keep going. I hope you rest. I hope the weather is beautiful. I hope someone smiles at you for no reason except joy. I hope the quiet feels like peace, not loneliness. I hope your heart softens instead of hardens. I hope you come to believe this life is a gift, not a burden — and that you, too, are a gift, not a burden. Yes, I hope this email finds you well. And if it doesn’t — I hope it sits with you there, gently, and refuses to let you go unseen.” — Tanner Olsen

I often begin letters or emails with the sentence, “I hope this note finds you well.” But truth be told, I’ve never much thought about what it means when I say that. I’m usually just trying to make a personal connection with the one on the receiving end rather than diving right into whatever is on my mind.

But the above passage. Oh, the above passage. It made me teary. When we wish someone well, we have the opportunity to extend so much goodness and intention.

So…in that spirit and with the help of images from a recent trip to see some lights with family…I hope this post finds you well. And what I mean is this: I hope you’re having a blessed holiday season, be it Advent, Christmas, or Hanukkah starting next week, or whatever you choose to celebrate.

And I hope you are enjoying the season in the company of those you love most.

I hope you are able to continue long-standing traditions.

I hope you find humor amidst imperfection.

I hope you see a dog. Because obviously some hopes are worth repeating.

I hope you feel a familiar, sweet ache in your heart when you hear the first strains of Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song.” Whether your preference is colored or white lights, I hope all of your bulbs are in working order and twinkle accordingly. I hope your baking is flawless. And if you aren’t a baker, I hope the baked goods you receive from others are infused with love. I hope it snows just a bit to make things beautiful on Christmas morning. And I hope it melts quickly so you can travel safely if need be. I hope you find THE perfect gift for the one who is most difficult to shop for. I hope your patience is plentiful when navigating overcrowded stores and I hope you find parking spots with ease. I hope you experience profound peace and joy.

Yes, I hope this post finds you well. And if it doesn’t — I hope you feel surrounded by the prayers and well-wishes from the person who authored this.