Hey eBook/Kindle readers!
Divine Appointments…is FREE today (2/29) and tomorrow (3/1), so head to Amazon at the link included in this post and grab your free copy 
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Winter Morning
The sun hasn’t risen up over the foothills yet. My bedroom is dark and in the piles of blankets on my bed I feel cocooned, warm and cozy. There is a cat, possibly two, curled and softly purring at the foot of the bed. I gingerly wiggle and stretch my feet; either cat could wake and attack my moving foot at any time.
Time to get up – there’s lovely hot coffee to make and sip in the quiet, peaceful morning of a silent house. Calm. Soothing.
Coffee in hand, the heat from the mug soaks into my chilly fingers. It feels homey, nostalgic and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. Anticipation? Expectation?
The lights from the Christmas tree and mantle glow softly and cheerfully in the still-dark living room. The rustic, wooden nativity scene is backlit with a sweet, warm glow from the tiny lights strung along the small side table where it resides. My mind wanders and contemplates all that this sweet and simple scene portray. A Savior born, a young mother’s joy and fear, shepherds’ awe and angel voices. Miracles. Redemption. Love.
A deep fog descended in the early hours of the morning. All is shrouded, misty and ethereal. Sounds are muffled and muted. I still my breathing for just a moment trying to hear the morning bird song and squirrel rustlings through the damp air. All is silent. It’s beautiful, disconcerting and mysterious. I feel all of that in my chest, my mind, and my spirit.
Sipping the warm coffee, I allow my mind to wander, and memories begin to surface. So many memories filter into my mind around the holidays. Ones that are tucked up and away out of sight for most of the year but resurrected as Fall approaches, melds and blends into the frenetic pace and high expectations of Winter holidays. As much as I long for the nostalgia, beauty and excitement of the holidays, there lingers and flits along the periphery those feelings that aren’t so merry and bright. Ones that call to mind Dr offices, hospitals, blindsiding loss and hurt, dashed expectations and lack luster merriment. There are, of course, the happy, joyful, lovely memories that come out and bring smiles, laughter and warm nostalgic feelings, but they are not alone, and the memories vie for prominence in my mind.
Looking out my back window at the swirly, wisping fog it feels disorienting and unfamiliar, yet beautiful in the covering quietness. I feel safe and wrapped up.
Stepping outside, the brisk chill of the damp air is startling. Breathing deeply, the cold air zings and stings my lungs. Invigorating. Through the mist I see light seeping through as the sun makes its ascent and the rays forge a path in the gloom. It’s calming. It brings a sense of order and relief that not all is murky and diminished; that night and darkness will not last forever – the Light is on its way.
The Light pierces through the veils of murky shadows and brings hope, joy and comfort. I imagine the awe, fear, anticipation and great hope that the first Light brought to the hills of a sleepy little village so many, many years ago. A Light full of joyful celebration, promises, hope and protection. That Light is still here. It shines, pierces and breaks though fog, darkness and the high, often unattainable expectations we crave during the holiday season.
The Light shows us that hard, sad and lonely memories can co-exist with joy, peace, living in the moment, and merriment. The Light calms the swirling expectations with a peace that passes all understanding. Dark crevices of memory are illuminated with healing and comfort when we give the Light permission to enter into it with us. He was there when the hurts happened. He has never left. He understands where the deep need and high expectations come from, and He delights with us in the silly, happy, fun times that bring joy and a smile to our faces. And He brings hope, so much hope that tells us we are not alone and all will be well. Emmanuel, God with us. The Light in the darkness, Prince of Peace, Mighty Counselor. Always, everywhere and in every season.
DIVINE APPOINTMENTS…IS LIVE – published and ready to go on Amazon as eBook/Kindle or paperback! It will soon be available at Barnes & Noble online, Books a million, Thriftbooks, Walmart and other online retailers. I cannot wait for you to get a copy in your hands and let me know what you think!!!
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I am thankful and honored that so many of you have been on this author journey with me for the past 2 years. It means more to me than you know to have support, encouragement and prayers for this book and Divine Encounters…to accomplish what God has planned for them. It has been such a fun and exciting journey and I’m hopeful there are more books to come
Cheers and happy reading!
Hi everyone! Divine Appointments…will be live and published this month! Uploading to Amazon as eBook/Kindleand paperback has begun and both will soon available. I cannot wait for you all to get book #2 in your hands!
Thank you so much for the continued support – it is much appreciated and so very valuable to self-published authors.
Cheers!
A crescent ray of filtered sunlight peeps in through the upstairs bedroom window.
Languid, lazy stretches; it’s cozy under the heavy heirloom quilt. I doze a bit longer enjoying the peace and quiet until the calico cat frisks and pounces on my moving foot, forcing me to get up and begin the day.
Soft, fluffy slipper socks wait next to the pine wood nightstand. Quilt-warmed feet are toasty padding down the narrow stair, the familiar creak at the fifth step from the bottom is comforting.
Snow!
A light snow has fallen in the night coating the garden and the stone fence with a sparkly spunkiness that beckons a walk to the village.
But first, coffee!
The warm, comforting coffee-scent permeates the chilly kitchen. Crispy bacon on toast sounds delicious this snow-bright morning – just enough until I make my way to Penny’s Pastries in the village square.
The watery sunlight filtering through the slowly building clouds begs for knee-high snow boots, the puffed navy-blue snow jacket and thick, red tartan scarf, navy gloves, and a beanie. Festive and snug!
The fluffy white cat lounges in his cardboard box bed on the end of the couch, watching sleepily as I don my winter apparel. He is quite happy to lie about for the morning, nestled down on the red fleece blanket tucked into the box.
Wrapped up and warm, I venture into the pretty snow-covered garden and out the creaky, wooden gate to begin my snowy adventure.
More snow than I realize has fallen during the night. The way it gently drifts and pillows the lane into the village square is lovely and inviting – that satisfying snow-crunch under foot.
Winking, colorful Christmas lights add a festive sparkle to the windows of Della’s Curio Shoppe on the corner. Antique Christmas decorations and assorted glass bowls filled with hard candies, invites one to step inside and browse the eclectic trinkets. A calming scent of vanilla, fir, and old things tease the senses. A jolly looking antique snowman catches my eye. Carefully wrapped trinket in hand, I venture on into the village.
The small group of well bundled carolers gracing the entrance to the old stone church, sing with gusto as they nod a greeting to those who stop for a spell. Their blending sopranos and altos swirl up and away into the wintry air on frosted breath. A wistful sigh of nostalgia brushes against me as I remember Christmases past with caroling, hot cocoa and festive holiday laughter…
Ah! Penny’s Pastries!
A scent of baking, heady and delicious, wafts from the wreathed door as patrons come and go, leaving a path in the powdery snow. Will she have fresh cream currant scones? She does! I settle myself, the scone, and some steamy Winter Blend tea at a rustic table near the windows. People watching!
Across the square, Nadia’s Toys & Treasures is doing brisk business this morning! The festive window display draws in the strolling families as they watch the model train set navigate the miniature hills and tunnels covered in flakey snow. Tiny sheep and cattle settled on the snowy fields watch its progress. Wide eyed children beg to go in and see where that tiny train goes on its round and round journey. Adventure!
Kitty-corner is Bea’s Nifty Notions n’ Such serving the sew-ers, knitters and crafters of the village. Brightly colored holiday ribbons, soft knit hats, mittens, and a plump Mrs. Claus at an antique sewing machine, adorn her display windows. It reminds me of my mother and grandmother – their beautiful handmade gifts and crafts so lovingly created. Two older ladies with bright purple hats and matching scarves bustle out the door. The holiday themed bags are filled with supplies for their next sewing project.
The clock-tower bells chime the hour with a deep, silvery gong. How times flies! There is more to see so I head out into the bustling square.
Lunch time!
Next stop, Lazzaro’s Deli. A prosciutto, ham, salami, and Swiss cheese sandwich with a few swipes of golden mustard, thin-sliced red onion, a splash of balsamic and olive oil, just a touch, mind, and some plump grapes accompany me on a hike up the hill behind the village. There is a small grove of pines at the top where adventurous children haul their sleds and all variety of hand-made sliding contraptions, to fly down the slope – yelping, shouting, and having a splendid time. Freedom and flight!
Weathered pine picnic tables are scattered around the grove for year-round picnickers, each table with a view of the sledders and village below. What a pleasant way to pass the afternoon. Memories pop up of climbing the hill at night with thermoses of hot cocoa and Baileys to look at the village adorned in Christmas lights. Spellbinding!
A quick brindle dog and large German Shepherd dash through the grove, pouncing and digging in the snow in search of the ball they have been fetching. While the dogs are busy, their owners pull out their picnic hoping to get in a few bites before the ball is found. The dog-kicked and flung snow comes dangerously close to my table. Laughing, I take that as my signal to head back down the hill.
Crisp, pine-scented, wintry air tousles my hair peeping out from under the beanie. Filling my lungs with the cold air is so invigorating! I’m alive and well on this wonderful day.
At the edge of the village, I change course and walk the lesser traveled side lanes. The snow drifts are deeper here but still navigable. The sun begins an early descent in the mountains and the shadows grow longer. The fading, muted light is a bit eerie as clouds move in and hover lower in the winter sky. The unmistakable feeling of snow.
The quaint and tumbled houses are pretty with their covers of snow and puffing chimneys. Safe and homey. A group of children jostle out one of the doors and into the nearby field pummeling each other with snowballs. Shouts and whoops of laughter break up the quiet.
Heading to the left, I follow the lane running along the banks of a stream. It passes from the hills through the village and out and beyond. Normally noisy and full of life, the quietening of winter renders it silent and still, as if in a deep and restful sleep. As I cross the sturdy stonework bridge spanning the iced-over stream, it broadens out into a wide, gentle lake frozen into the perfect ice-skating rink. Ordering a large hot cocoa from the festive concessions stand, I grab a seat on one of the nearby benches.
Dinnertime!
The Aberdeen Café and Mama’s Diner fill up with hungry shoppers and families who need a quick refuel and rest before ice skating begins. I’m happy I have half a sandwich leftover from lunch. Trekking up and down the hill made me hungry. As the heat from the hot cocoa leaches into my chilly hands, I gaze around the square at the beautifully lit fir tree with its merry winking lights and lovely lit-up angel at the top.
With dinner finished, the brave and adventurous head out onto the ice. They are all in top form! Some glide by with calm, happy smiles while others slip along with mouths formed into a nervous O, as they precariously zip and zing across the ice. There will be more than a few sore bums and knees before the night is over.
The village is festive and welcoming with its lovely lights and lit up greenery. I hesitate to head home yet, but it’s been a long day. The coziness of my aunt and uncle’s cottage, with the crackling fire they will have blazing, beckons me to go on home.
Finishing the hot cocoa, I take another look at the cheerful shops and happy skaters. What a lovely day!
I scoop up my package from the curio shoppe and make my way along the darkening lane to the cottage. As I walk and breathe in the frigid night air, a gentle snow begins to fall on the winter village. The large fluffy flakes are soft and gentle. So peaceful. I marvel at the way they flutter and float on the wintry night air, each going their own way. There is a deliberateness to the random way they descend and find their landing place. Each one with a specific spot that adds to the piling snow drifts – each one needed. I imagine the Creator’s joy and excitement as each one is uniquely crafted and thought out. Humanity isn’t so different from these beautiful snowflakes.
Turning onto Lakeview Lane, I pause to take in the cottage before heading inside. So lovely, the way it sparkles and winks, white lights outlining its edges and curves, smoke gently chuffing from the stone chimney. Inviting. Lovely memories of my day in the village are safely tucked away as snowy peace descends on the winter village.
It’s going to be another hot day, so I’m up early. I head to the patio and warm coffee comes with me. There is a slight chill, oh so slight, but I can feel it on my skin.
There is something vague and wistful in the way the air feels this morning. The hint of the warmth that’s to come, mixed in with that slight chill. It feels so familiar.
It’s the way the light is coming up over the apple tree, shadows from the branches falling just so on the green grass and touching the edges of the 3-tiered fountain. The yellowy-white light pulls at my memory; I’ve seen this light before. I know it.
I hear it in the way the finches, bold blue jays and grey titmouse call and chatter. Fuzzy squirrels scampering and digging in the grass and garden tug at something hovering in my mind.
The scent in the air has a subtle, comforting, reminiscent quality to it that dances on the fringe of memory. It’s happy and calming; stirring up a sentimental longing and wistful affection for something… Is it a specific memory or snippets of various memories stirred up by the sight, sound, scent of this peaceful morning? I wonder…
Sitting here at the pine table I allow my thoughts go where they will.
The scent in the air, the light and the creature sounds call up memories of my grandparents’ house in Lakehead, CA. I loved this place! It was nestled in and around pine trees with squirrels and birds galore! I recall the warm, safe scent of those pine trees, the dusty earth, and bubbling excitement of walking through the wooded area to the little market with my grandma. Exciting!
In the warm afternoons, the blue kiddie pool was set up in the backyard under some shady pine trees. Buckets, cups, Barbies, and various other toys made for a fun and easy afternoon. I think time stood still for a bit. My grandma sat in the shade on her 70’s era lawn chair with a sweating glass of sweet tea and chatted with me. Always the safe, old, lovely scent of warm pine and earth.
I remember the thrill and exhilaration of hurtling down a big hill near their house in my little red wagon with the pine-y wind in my face – what a memory of freedom and adventures. I looked forward to the summer-night strolls to visit neighbors and see a few deer as we walked along. Pleasant and friendly.
The sound of scampering squirrels on my fence reminds me of hearing pattering squirrel feet run over the roof of their house and my grandpa’s garage in the early mornings. The garage was a wonderful place. It was full of gadgets, boxes of nails and rakes, the fishing gear, and all sorts of fun things to play with and examine. It had the distinct smell of cars and a tangy scent of oil and gasoline. Order and routine, everything in its place.
I can smell the fishy, earthy, watery scent of Lake Shasta where my grandpa, my Dad and I spent many hours on his boat fishing and motoring around the lake, stopping in the small, quiet coves to cool off and swim. Even in the summer heat, there was the distinct lake chill that danced above the water. Dinner of fresh caught fish back at the house gave me such a warm, cozy, homey feeling. We sat and ate on the enclosed porch at the picnic table, talking and laughing about the highlights of the day. As the adults talked on into the summer night, I would drowse and day dream.
Yes, these are cherished memories. Interesting how a subtle scent on the air, a ray of sunlight and nature sounds have the power to trigger the mind and bring these memories flooding back.
I wish I could go back to relive those parts of life to recapture the feelings and sensations. Happy memories of pleasant times where life seemed simpler, sweeter, and not so complex. I often feel this way around the holidays as I look at old pictures of my family gathered around a festive table, carving a pumpkin, or sitting by the Christmas tree. When I look at paintings of the holidays in times past, there is a wistful, yearning feeling of wanting to be there. Nostalgia.
Life can be chaotic and unpredictable. I wonder if our adult brains unconsciously seek out the sights, scents, and sounds of those times where things were ordered, reliable, safe, and predictable. I think God wired us to treasure and preserve those moments. We can pull them from our heart-memories as a comfort and break from the monotony and loneliness of life. Blessings.
I think I will pray that nostalgia visits me often, like an old, dear friend; full of comfort, comradery, and memories to make me smile. What a gift!
With the holidays in full swing, I have been thinking about traditions and the place of importance they often hold in our lives. It made me stop and wonder why? There are holiday traditions I definitely look forward to and work hard to make happen, just the way I remember them. Beginning in November, I feel that twinge of anxiety, mixed with great anticipation about how Christmas “should be.” That last part, “how Christmas should be”, becoming my focus. It brings with it a whole lot of expectations, which often lead to feeling disappointed and let down, because things rarely go as planned, right? My tightly controlled ideas of how things will be, how people will act and the expectation that everyone feels the same excitement, rarely come to pass. Someone gets sick, finances are tight, the weather does not cooperate, kids grow up and don’t react the way they used to, it’s a no burn day, so the roaring, cheery fire doesn’t happen, cats destroy carefully wrapped packages and the list goes on and on of things that sneak or blast their way in to our well controlled plans for the perfect holiday.
I have expectations of yummy goodies baking all season in the kitchen, making my house smell festive; I imagine Christmas parties with good friends filling the house; I dream of evenings spent by a warm, cozy fire with my family, pets, hot drinks, movies and all the warm fuzzy togetherness we can stand; a night of hot cocoa, while driving around looking at festive Christmas lights with everyone loving every second of it, with not a fight to be had. This fantastic list goes on and on, of things that are wonderful and exciting and lovely, but not very realistic. These expectations leave NO wiggle room for life or messed up plans or teenagers who don’t want to drive around looking at houses with lights on them.
I asked myself why I get anxious, letdown or sad if things don’t play out the way I expected. What will it mean if none of these traditions I hold on to, with such a white knuckled intensity, come to pass?  Interestingly enough, the first thought that came to mind was “it won’t be safe.” Safety. I can see that. It makes sense in an odd sort of way. Feeling safe is something I have always craved. Remembering back to my childhood Christmases, everything felt predictable, controlled and orderly. It was safe. Secure. All wrapped up tightly. I knew what and who to expect, when and how to expect them.  It was all lovely and predictable. I’m certain that things didn’t go perfectly all of the time; plans were changed, people got sick and life disrupted, as it often does, but as a child, I don’t remember any of that. I remember feeling safe; protected and wrapped up in traditions, knowing that my family would be surrounding me, we would have festive meals and there would be baking and delicious smells; there would be the anticipation of Christmas Eve candle light services and carols and everyone smiling; there would be lights on our tree and evenings spent sitting in the glow of those lights. The anticipation of Santa and listening for reindeer filled my heart with joy and wonder and predictability. What great memories. I love them. There were things in my childhood that were not happy and safe. Christmas and traditions held such importance, because I knew that during the holidays, I would feel safe and things would be predictable and in control. I wonder if that holds some truth for all of us? Do traditions give us predictability, safety and the feeling of being in control in an otherwise unpredictable, uncontrollable life? Is that why there are such feelings of letdown and depression for some, come Dec. 26th? Unmet expectations? Things not ending up as planned? People not behaving the way we had hoped?
Maybe this year will be different. Can I shift my focus to what is in front of me and embrace and enjoy it, allowing something new to become a great memory, instead of relying on what happened in the past to happen again? Can I celebrate Christmases past, yet open my heart to the here and now?  I want the season to be about gratefulness, focusing on what I have and the season of life I’m in; finding peace in that. I want the season to be more about Jesus and the joy of knowing how safe and loved I am. God came to Earth, in the flesh, to be part of my world, to bring me everlasting life. The King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, Almighty God, Warrior, Lover, Savior – He came for me. He came for you. How’s that for feeling safe! Come, let us adore Him!
Extravagant Hope 