Category: Spirituality/Inspiration

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Spiritual Journey – December 2024


Scrolling in search of the next book to read on an upcoming flight, my right thumb becoming numb, I came to a screeching halt on Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May.  

This, I nodded approvingly to myself, thinking of all the exhausting change that 2024 has brought.  This may be just the medicine my soul needs right now.

Many of the changes life has brought throughout the year are positive ones, but even good change requires a period of adjustment.  The not-so-good changes, even more so.  

I clicked the Kindle sample download and examined the Table of Contents, organized in chapters by the seven cold months of the year starting in October and ending in Late March.  I read the reviews on Goodreads and delved into the sample text, asking at each decision point whether this would be the best investment of my time and cognitive energy – since both are forever fleeting.

After finishing the sample, I knew this was the book for me.  I downloaded the full book.

I realize I’ve struck book gold when I find a book that has me hanging on each sentence, savoring its power and meaning as I apply it to my life and feel the peace it brings.  Each thought, it seems, fits like a glove when I’ve found the right book for the right time.  It’s like a medicinal salve, like Candy Cane chapstick on parched lips whipped sick by the wind.  

All at once, my breathing deepens and my heart slows from its racing pace.  I feel my tongue stop pressing against the roof of my mouth in its usual stress-pressure position.  My shoulders drop and my neck muscles loosen.  I read May’s soothing words as I consider the approaching winter break: 

“Winter is when I reorganize my bookshelves and read all the books I acquired in the previous year and failed to actually read. It is also the time when I reread beloved novels, for the pleasure of reacquainting myself with old friends….In winter, I want concepts to chew over in a pool of lamplight—slow, spiritual reading, a reinforcement of the soul. Winter is a time for libraries, the muffled quiet of book stacks and the scent of old pages and dust. In winter, I can spend hours in silent pursuit of a half-understood concept or a detail of history. There is nowhere else to be, after all.”

And in this, I can rest with full hope and anticipation that the gas logs and my heated throw will bring needed warmth.  My dogs will bring peace and deep comfort as they vie for snoozing position next to me, and my books will bring the golden silence and space my heart needs as I sip a cup of honeyed hot tea and reread: …. there is nowhere else to be, after all.  

My next book will be Calm Christmas by Beth Kempton. What will you be reading, dear friend, in the sweet, snug nook of home, in the nestled bliss of nowhere else to be?

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Please link your blog posts in the comments below, and thank you for reading today!

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The Peace of Home

On Saturday, we picked up the dogs from the kennel. They’d been there for over a week, and we don’t think they sleep very well there with all the barking and the stress of the other dogs who are strangers to them. We believe this because every time we pick them up, they sleep the rest of the day and straight through the night once we bring them back to the comfort of their home.

It’s a lot like how we feel when we come home from a trip. We can let down and truly relax. All our stuff is back where it goes, and we are no longer living out of a carry-on suitcase.

Our dogs are spoiled, and used to a quiet space where they lounge in our bed all day and eat kibble soaked in bone broth. They pile up in our laps or on the back of our chairs, stretching their front legs around one side of our neck and their back legs around the other, functioning essentially as a living fur scarf and warming us from the inside out.

One of them, Ollie, has no upbringing whatsoever – – he will walk right across the end table to get from one of us to the other as we sit in our family room chairs. He is often seeking his place, because he arrived in our family as a “guest dog” after my grandson visited and wanted to know which of our two dogs was going to sleep with him in his bed. Fitz is invisibly tethered to me, and Boo Radley does not stray far from my husband. Ollie, a young stray schnoodle offered to us by the rescue when two other families walked away, joined our family after being found as a young stray on the streets of Gainesville, Georgia. He is the perfect “guest dog,” simply wandering between us, happiest when someone is throwing his ball to him.

The quiet comfort and peace of home is the best part of the Johnson Funny Farm, but it would not be this blissful without the dogs here with us. They add such character, such love, such personality, such humor – and such predictability – to our lives. They know their routine.

When I rise, earlier most days than my husband, they wait in bed for me to use the restroom and wash my hands. Once I come out, they are on their way down the bed steps, heading to the door for their turn.

Out we go for the first quick outing, into the dark of the morning no matter what time of year it is, and they handle their business quickly before coming back inside – back to bed on work days, to wait for me to finish my shower. Once I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and begin writing, though, two will saunter in and reposition themselves – Boo and Ollie – while Fitz finds his toy turtle and burrows under the bed covers until time for the second outing of the morning.

I think what I love best is the weekends, where they know we are going nowhere and that the day will be spent at home with them, belonging to each other in the way that dogs and their people do when they’ve bonded.

There is no other peace felt as deeply, at least for me, as the complete and total togetherness of being home with our boys.

Oh, to sleep this spontaneously!

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Our Three Christmas Dogs

We asked Zoomies, where we board our dogs, to please share a report card and a couple of photos of the boys with us while we were gone, since we knew we would be missing our four-legged sons terribly. While boarding, they were to have groomings as well.

We had no idea they would be taking Christmas pictures while we were gone, so imagine our delight when we got these precious pictures of our three rescue schnoodles the day before Thanksgiving! We wanted to share them with you, too, so that you could see their expressions. (We’ll translate for you what each is thinking):

This is how it’s going for our boys at the kennel:

Fitz: “ I can’t wait for Santa! I’m a good boy, and he will have a treat for me. Let me smile big for my Christmas picture and show off these old teeth I keep losing before they’re all gone.”

Fitz, named for F. Scott Fitzgerald

Ollie: “Let me pose like the spoiled, dignified dog that I am, the kind that might have a jar of Grey Poupon handy in case anyone ever asks. I’ll behave just right for this festive Christmas photo, since I have just been groomed to perfection. Maybe someone will see the look in my eyes and want to throw my ball for me to chase. I’ll just go ahead and put my front legs in the ready position to run after it.”’

Ollie, named for the late, great poet Mary Oliver

Boo Radley: “This is b#ll$h!t!”

Boo Radley, named for a character in To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Cheers for the holiday spirit, and for all the Christmas pictures that will be made over the coming weeks, and a full license to embrace the truth of whatever the camera captures. We are still laughing at their personalities. Our Christmas Dogs. Oh, the joy they bring.

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Happy Thanksgiving!

Plymouth Rock is a

solid landmark reminder

of new beginnings

I wish you a reflective Thanksgiving with your family today ~ moments of deep thought to consider all that we have and time to be grateful for it. On days like this, where I have all the morning to write and a travel post from yesterday waiting to be shared, it seems I need the reflective rock time more than the writing today.

Perhaps you’d like to ponder on it today as well. Look closely – – at one time, it was broken. It has been mended. And it holds messages here for people, for hearts, for families, for nations.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Plymouth Rock in Plymouth, MA – photo taken November 27, 2024
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Monday Travels~ From Kennebunkport, Maine to Woodstock, Vermont

After the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) Convention concluded in Boston on Sunday, my husband and I rented a car and started a loop through New England so that we could see a little more of the northeastern United States. Since we didn’t take a vacation anytime earlier this year, we decided to take a trip this week and enjoy some time away to relax and recharge.

I might be a pain as a travel companion. I’m pretty sure I am, because there was frost on the top of the car and I urged my husband to get up and watch the sunrise with me. On the rooftop of a hotel. When the wind was blowing so hard the seagulls were forced into changing course.

I can’t help it. There’s something exhilarating and soul-renewing about the way the sun casts a glow at the top of the day, as if it’s pouring the world a glass of orange juice to serve up energy for all the day brings.

We woke up in Kennebunkport, Maine this morning and did some exploring in that coastal town before driving across New Hampshire to Woodstock, Vermont to do more adventuring in another state.

A pano my husband took in Kennebunkport
Sunrise picture
Christmas tree being decorated in the middle of the street

We’re enjoying watching places decorate for Christmas. We found some men with a ladder decorating a tree in the middle of the street right in the heart of Kennebunkport. There was another crew hanging garland over the bridge, and still more putting out a reindeer with lights and a sleigh and a Santa and a snowman. Snowflakes with lights were hanging at the tops of buildings, and the festive feeling of Christmas was in the air. Some homes had pumpkins on the front porches and wreaths on the front doors, and I feel like I learned something important from that.

On the bridge in Kennebunport (it was so cold I had to buy a hat for my ears to stay warm)

My favorite stop of the day was the U.S. Post Office. I’d broken my own rules by taking 17 books from NCTE with no plan whatsoever for how to get them home in just the carry-on and personal bag I brought along. So I asked my husband to find a Post Office, and one was right down a side street from the middle-of-the-road Christmas tree. I purchased a box, the kind that you peel the sealing tape off the side, scribbled my address in the TO space, and mailed these signed volumes home to myself at the book rate.

The fun came in the place and people, and I’m convinced that the actual Post Office is a character all by itself, with its very old doors that I wished had a register of all the people who’d ever entered and exited. I felt I’d stepped back in time to the 1940s. My next goal is to research the history of the building with its tiny mailboxes and the feeling of nostalgia here that had me wondering if ten thousand ghosts weren’t waving to me from the ceiling space. I saw live people coming and going, but the feeling of past was powerful here, kind of like mediums must feel when giving a fortune telling.

Then there was the man in line behind me, a gentleman of about 80, who was as kind and curious as humans come. He suggested I sit the box down when he saw me holding it so long, but by that time, I was next. He said it looked heavy, but I told him it was all books – and then he got interested……especially when I told him who’d signed them all. Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, Kate McKinnon, Bryan Stephenson, Ada Limon, Sy Montgomery, Matt Patterson, and more.

I kept wondering what was taking so long – – until I got to the window and figured it out. The Postmaster was a character, too – maybe the main one. He was about 70, hilarious with his jokes and fun. His piercing blue eyes and his mannerisms took ahold of me. He had to read the whole script, asking me if I had…..”anything perishable…..any batteries….anything liquid…” even though I kept saying no and had read the screen and pushed the NO button. He smiled a little and peered up over a raised bushy eyebrow atop the rim of his glasses so I would know it was a game. Then, when I asked for elves holiday stamps to mail postcards to the grandchildren, he told me they’d just gotten those in from Graceland, handing me two books. “You know, where all the Elv(i)s live!” I laughed the corny joke laugh, smiled what felt like the realest smile I’d smiled all year long, and wondered why every place couldn’t feel this unhurried and fun. Especially at such a busy time.

Then I stepped back out the doors into 2024.

Look closely for ghosts. I swear they are here somewhere.

My husband’s favorite stop of the day was the Bush compound, and we caught sight of three people walking. We couldn’t tell who they were, but we know someone was home since the flag was up to indicate their presence – plus, we saw several cars including the tell-tale Secret Service black SUV. This was an unplanned stop on the route, but one we both enjoyed. Even though we didn’t get that invitation to come in for a cup of hot chocolate that we stood there hoping for.

When we finally arrived in Woodstock, we went to The Vermont Flannel Company on the suggestion of a friend, who had been during her fall break last year and loved the place.

The bad news: I couldn’t buy a blanket because…… only a carry-on and a personal bag.

The good news: I couldn’t buy a blanket because…….only a carry-on and a personal bag.

I could live in their shirts and wrap up every night in those cozy blankets. And I see why the flannel is such a hit here. It’s freezing. And the Georgians? Yeah, we brought denim jackets and thin nylon windbreakers but no coats……that’s the other bad news. (I awoke early, and below is the forecast for today):

But onward we march, freezing and having a wicked good time.

The Vermont Flannel Company on Elm Street, Woodstock, VT
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A Christmas Carol at the Alliance Theater: Still, Still, Still

A quartet of carolers opens the play with Still, Still, Still

We didn’t come straight home from Halloween festivities and put up our Christmas tree (it still isn’t up), but we have officially begun preparing our hearts for the Christmas season ahead. It began two weekends ago when we took our grandson Aidan to see The Nativity Tour at The Biblical History Center in Lagrange, Georgia. When it comes to Christmas, I do love the charged energy of cold weather, the laughter of shoppers, the gatherings with food and fellowship, and the lights. But Christmas, for me, lives in the quiet moments of deep thought and reflection – about ordinary things and how they connect to a greater concept.

The first reminders of the season came as we stood outside a sheepfold with our firstborn grandson, now a few months away from a driver’s license, learning about the likelihood that the manger may have been made of stone and the surrounding animals predominantly sheep. We discovered the reasons that a family in Biblical times may have turned away a woman expecting a baby for fear it would displace them if birth occurred and rendered their house unclean for 30 days. Having no room in the inn has been a frequent thought recently as I watch families unravel over candidates – brother against brother. Sadness, angst, grief over loss of relationships, and anger have all been the emotions of recent days. It’s hard to escape.

The second reminders of the season came as I watched my favorite Christmas book, A Christmas Carol, come to life on the stage. Is there any wonder that this particular adaptation of the play at this theater opens each year with a quartet of carolers singing Still, Still, Still? It prepares the minds and hearts of the audience to pay attention – to be still and watch for what is most important by looking in our own mirrors – to listen to the characters and the messages they bring. And yes, to sit right next to Charles Dickens himself, whose own story lurks in the shadows, and to wonder: what, dear friend, do I need to see in each of these characters and change in my own life as I seek joy this season?

Is there any greater time to hear this message than right now, today? It is the message of Christmas that beckons us to think not of our own rights and wishes, but the acts of service and giving to those around us to avoid those two hideous children, Ignorance and Want, who huddle under our cloaks. Children we try to hide, who are as clear and present as decaying front teeth behind a selfish smile. Is there any greater time to seek healing in our own hearts than Christmas?

Adults are often asked if we believe in Santa. Whether we do or don’t, the greater question, I think, is whether we believe in Scrooge. Somewhere in the quiet moments, I am reassured that even old Ebenezer himself, and even the Grinch, has hope – as do I, as does this nation. And this year, perhaps more than ever before, I welcome the ghosts to remind me to count my blessings.

Reminders: A Tricube

still, still, still

we listen

our hearts thaw

still, still still

quartet sings

voices lift

still, still, still

their words ring

all year long

Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers
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The Biblical History Center: The Nativity Tour

time with our grandson

sharing a Biblical meal

(he teamed up for pranks)

On Saturday, we picked up our oldest grandson, Aidan, and headed over to LaGrange, Georgia to the Biblical History Center. We’d gone a couple years back and enjoyed the regular tour, so we wanted to take Aidan back to share in the Biblical Meal and join us on the Nativity Tour, which begins November 1 and runs through December. Since he plans to enter the ministry, we correctly predicted that this would be a highlight of his Christmas season (which, by the way, now apparently starts the day after Halloween).

You can read my previous 3-part blog posts here, here, and here.

In true grandfather/grandson style, the first thing they did in the midst of the reverence of the meal was prank my blog photographs (I confess – – I do take a lot of pictures since I like to use them when I write). First, my husband diverted his gaze upward. Of course, I showed it to them and playfully scolded Poppy for messing up the picture. I told them we’d have to take another one.

And look at this. Just look at what these clowns did.! They teamed up to keep the prank going. So of course……we had to take another. People around us were holding back laughter, and I felt at once as if I were back in church sitting by that one friend you should never sit with in church, knowing you might not behave.

Finally, they got it just right. Fun at its best with these two!

We started the meal with our guide, blessing first the drinks and then the food. As she offered the prayer first in English and then in Hebrew, we repeated the Hebrew words. Then, we began passing the food – mostly a Mediterranean diet, starting with unleavened bread (a flour tortilla), followed by eggs, hummus, raisins, grilled chicken (substituted for lamb), spinach/artichoke dip, lentil soup, grapes, applesauce, salad, and black and green olives. We did not use forks, since they didn’t in Biblical times. We drank our soup and ate with our fingers or used our flour tortilla to scoop food and eat it. The health department requires the center to provide napkins, but they explained that in Biblical times, we would not have had them. Additionally, in Biblical times we would not have been seated but actually more laid back on our sides to share the meal.

As we made our way along the tour, we learned the truth about the inn which would have normally been an extra room in a home of a family and not an inn as we think of it like a hotel or British pub with rooms upstairs. A family would not have welcomed a pregnant woman about to give birth, because the birthing process would have deemed the house unclean and they would have had to leave for a month. The place where Jesus was born was more likely a sheepfold, and a manger made not of wood but of stone. Not so much a stable as a livestock barn but more of a sheep enclosure.

This was a fabulous day, and we also were blessed to see the archaeological artifacts on loan from Israel. This is the only Biblical History Center in the entire United States Southeast that has these items, including a coin like the one that the woman in the Bible lost from her wedding headdress. It was fascinating to see the pottery pieces, the tools, and the weaving looms from Biblical times. These items remain in a vault that is climate controlled, behind glass, and no photographs can be taken of them. It was a treat to be able to see the items on display and have a guide who explained their significance. I think that of all the artifacts, I was most fascinated with the beads that were found in an Old Testament tomb. The beads were coiled scrolls that contain the Aaronic Blessing with the message The Lord Bless You and Keep You, The Lord Lift His Countenance Upon You and Give You Peace and be Gracious Unto You. These beads held importance for establishing the significance of the cultural context of the tomb and its place in history.

After a three hour tour including a meal and a narrated historical journey through the center’s outdoor replicas of historically accurate structures – and a t-shirt for Aidan to help him think of his trip each time he wears it – we took a moment to stop at Starbucks for a cup of iced coffee and to chat about our time together. Aidan said his favorite part was learning about the true foot position of crucifixion which is more likely pierced through the side of the ankle than the top of the foot. Briar said his favorite part of the visit to the center was the interactive lighted maps of Biblical places, and my favorite part was watching Aidan’s participation in answering questions that demonstrated his knowledge of the Bible and his passion for all it means to him.

Next up when we return to the Biblical History Center in the spring: The Easter Tour.

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Ode to Change: Day 2 of October’s Open Write

Our host for Day 2 of the October Open Write is a group of students at Aquinas College in Michigan, inspiring us today to write odes to change. Stefani Boutelier, an instructor at AC, leads them in their prompt offering today, which you can read in its entirety here.

Ode to Letting Go in Chained Haiku

the leaves show us how
on our morning driveway walks
straight into the sun

how to let things go
bidding the branches goodbye
flitting to forest

floor beneath, seeking,
stirring, gathering in groups
with others who’ve held

onto things for far
too long to know weightlessness
untethered freedom

to roll on gentle
breeze to take to bright blue skies
on blustery gusts

to change their small view
and see the whole world anew. ~
a new perspective

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On Our Walk

on this crisp, cold morn

I take the dogs on a walk

into the sunrise

just the beginning

of the changing of the leaves

brings joy to my heart!

a country sunrise ~

its beauty is breathtaking

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Western Kentucky Botanical Gardens Surprise!

they’re tying the knot!

he proposed – and she said yes!

so many blessings!

The day began like any other, only it wasn’t. A bowl of Raisin Bran with a sliced banana and a cup of coffee, the back-hum of morning news and the coming and going of guests all eating breakfast in a Hampton Inn in Western Kentucky – – and I was among them, looking forward to the big surprise awaiting my daughter at the Western Kentucky Botanical Gardens in the afternoon. No, this day was certainly not like any other I’d ever lived.

On August 20, he’d asked for her hand, and I gave my whole-hearted blessing. He’d been there for her on one of the toughest roads of her life. In those moments that held emotional release as I watched them interact in their early days, I saw something different about this young man and the way he’d interacted with my daughter.

First, the love in his eyes. His mother said the same thing: he’s dated before, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone else with such love. Her observation took the words right out of my mouth. Their love for each other is evident. So real you can see it.

Second, the care. I witnessed her tears as she sat at the table searching for a lost item needing to be found, hearing her sniffles at the sense of hopelessness for only a moment before he got up from his chair, rounded the table, took her in his arms, and comforted her in the gentlest way.

I prayed. Lord, please let us find what we need.

Then, in an obscure envelope in the most unlikely place in the box from the attic, it manifested itself like sunlight rising over a crest.

This journey has been one of prayer, one of power seen in the ordinary moments for this couple. And God winked on them – he knows her tender heart, knew it would take a strong and patient man to win her heart and her trust. And the good Lord sent just the right soul mate.

Third, the lighthearted fun and playful side that keeps them laughing – a quick run and boot-bottom slide down the aisle of the store when no one is looking, teasing each other here and there in all the ways that will get them through life without taking it all too seriously to be enjoyed. He asked her what kind of birthday cake she’d wanted, and she jokingly quipped she’d wanted a cake like Aunt Petunia made in one of the Harry Potter movies.

And he made it for her.

And fourth, the commitment. I saw it before, but I saw it in other ways on my visit here on my fall break- the commitment to family, to God, to each other. This family sits down for cooked meals – – talks about what they want to eat, shops for it, slices carrots and mashes four full heads of cauliflower like mashed potatoes and cooks together. Someone makes shortbread and can talk about the balance of sugars and fats and how that’s the science of baking that he knows so well. Another pulls out a special sauce to marinate the chicken for the grill, while one takes it to the flat top for cooking. There is a throng of family present, and they take turns walking and feeding the rescue dogs that are a part of their family. They all pitch in, then they sit down together and thank God for his many blessings. And one takes the plates when everyone is finished, while his mother thanks him. I believe somewhere in the deepest reaches of my heart that they also thank God for their challenges. The mold issue that forced them to gut their home and rebuild it brought a more spacious kitchen – – one where the table is at the heart, filled with chairs for coming together and talking at the end of the day – a place where conversation keeps them connected like the roots of the strongest trees. It keeps them close.

I knew why I gave my blessing, but it wasn’t until I visited and became part of the fabric of this amazing family that I fully understood what she shared on her Facebook post:

I’m thrilled for these two young adults with their lives ahead of them – ready for the living, with a family who loves them – and them, ready to love their own family when they welcome their son into the fold in January. And I was blessed to be a part of their big moment yesterday. This young man knew her mama’s heart needed to be there to celebrate, and he made it happen, holding tight to the ring he’s had waiting for two months now, buying a new jacket with big enough pockets to hide the ring for just the right moment, just the right place, just the right timing.

Steadfast prayers of so many have brought the most beautiful blessings!