“…- an escape from the mundane of my day and a glimpse into heaven. Every page had me nodding my head; identifying with what the author penned while simultaneously being both challenged and inspired. Truly, a divine encounter!”
Cabin
December Moon
The December night is dark and deep, stillness and chill seeping into bones despite a layering of coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and thick-soled boots.
Footfall is muffled and shushed along the pine-strewn path, boots stirring up the ancient scent of the woods and winter-shrouded earth.
The hush of the forest has a particular sound—not truly silent to the careful observer but full of the rustle, scurry, and purpose of those living in the night. Frigid air gives their purpose a new vigor with warm dens and beds of fern, pine needles, and forest detritus waiting to give shelter.
Deep, full inhalations fill lungs to the brim with invigorating, life-giving air. Oddly, the heavy chill, though it burns and startles, offers peace and affirmation of knowing one is alive and well. Sometimes it takes the cloak of a dark, wintry, forest-y night to bring clarity to the chaos and exposure of living in the light.
Rounding the curve in the path, the stillness of the pond with the shimmery moon-glow trail on the dark water is breathtaking. A path of light and love painted on the water by the brush strokes of One who loves to bring awe, redemption, and delight. Loved. Seen. Safe.
The sound of stealthy prowling comes from the edge of the pond as a night hunter shifts and waits for dinner. Circle of life.
Moving along as the chill ever deepens, the hooting of an owl adds to the frosty night noises—haunting and lovely, it is primitive and wild.
The path around the pond circles back on itself, and my boots head back to the cabin. Thoughts of the cheerful fire in the firepit on the deck and the warm sherpa blanket urge me onward at a brisker pace.
Wrapped in the cozy blanket, Irish coffee in the large Christmas mug warms my cold hands, steam rising merrily as the fire mesmerizes me.
A scrabbling, crunchy noise interrupts my reveries as a creature moves about to the left of the deck, digging through pine needles and foliage for a midnight snack. Curious glowing eyes spy on me. The shadowy outline of a fat raccoon in the faint reach of the firelight watches me until her curiosity wanes, and she moves along.
Leaning back in the deck chair, the stars appear strewn about like so much glitter landing at random points. But nothing is truly random. The night sky is beautifully planned and decorated with patterns and puzzles of light created to lead the ancient traveler.
Frosty breath wafts up as if making its way to the austere moon that guides, watches, and travels the night sky. Fascinating to imagine all the eyes that have looked up in the night for navigation and a sense of constancy in a world that doesn’t always seem that way. A balm to lonely souls, the shining beacon of light makes things feel safer and less chaotic.
The shepherds on that holy and silent night looked up into the same chilled, star-filled sky that I see on my deck as the fire glows and snickers to itself. The same moon watched on as the Holy One became man, as angelic hosts filled the still and starry night with the most awe-inspiring, stunning display of power and love that humankind has ever known.
It is not by happenstance that eyes are drawn upward—seeking wisdom, direction, meaning, safety, love, and blessed peace.
From a cold and silent winter night, filled with moonlight and stars, came the Light of the world. A Divine exchange between Creator and creation. Ultimate gift. Unconditional love. Emmanuel.
Warm bed beckons, and I head inside, mind full of awe as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of the gift humanity was given on that night so long ago.
The old wood stove burns quiet, drowsy warmth. I curl up under quilts and comforters as the light of the moon gently glows through the snug window. Thoughts of angels, joy, and eternity soothe and calm into a restful sleep—a silent and holy night where all is calm and bright under a December moon.
From Divine Appointments…
Photo credit: Martin Mariani
He Knows the Plans
Psalm 126:3 NLT “Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us! What joy!”
One week before Christmas and I’m dealing with a nasty cold/virus, canceled plans, and feelings of disappointment. My husband and I won’t have our adult kids home this year, so these vacation plans were something festive and exciting we hoped would ease the missing of them this year.
I was up extra early this morning in an attempt to ease the coughing and sneezing. I cozied down in my favorite chair wrapped in a blanket, with hot coffee, and the Christmas lights glowing in the living room. I wanted to feel sad, disappointed, frustrated, and I did, but…the silence, the misty fog outside, and the warm, glowing lights covered me in such a comforting feeling of peace and safety. I felt tucked in and looked after. Divine presence…
As I settled in, my mind wandered to Christmases past, funny and happy memories, and then it circled back to the now. It’s true that my plans and expectations for this season aren’t following the script, but joy doesn’t always come in carefully planned, to-do list ways. In the lovely quiet, I felt His gentle reminder of all the ways good things did happen. In the unexpected blessings and joys that did find me, in the divine encounters and the divine whispers that left me in awe of how deeply seen, known, and loved I am by the greatest gift ever given – Jesus. Emmanuel, God with us – the One who never disappoints, never falls short, lavishes us with blessings, joy, peace, and handmade gifts uniquely crafted for me and for you. Apple of His eye.
So yes, I am confident I will find joy this Christmas season. I will actively search for it in the ordinary, the mundane, the silence of a quiet house, the glow of holiday lights, and the adventure of canceled plans, because He knows the plans He has for me. That is comforting.
I pray that you will find the joy, the adventures, and the beauty in this season of mystery and divine appointments as you look to Him because He is enough.
Photo credit: Sid Cosmo
A Silent Night
From Divine Appointments…The Greatest Gift
The cabin is snug and cozy tonight.
Gently snoring, dogs on soft beds kick and yip as they dream of chasing the purring black cat nestled down and dozing on a warm blanket.
The fire glows brightly.
I watch the dancing colors mesmerize and hypnotize me from my favorite comfy chair; an old quilt jumbled around me. A steaming cup of tea warms the body and soul.
All is warm and pleasant.
The tree lights wink softly in the branches. It’s magical and enchanting.
My wandering mind recalls vivid scenes of Christmases past—pine-scented memories of the perfect tree, glowing lights, and cherished ornaments sparkling as they peek out from their carefully chosen spot on the Christmas tree.
Fragrant mugs of creamy cocoa with floating marshmallows mingle with the homey smells of holiday baking as Christmas carols sing out on the record player.
Memories of laughter and excited anticipation on Christmas Eve—Light of the world, blessed hope, holy and sacred.
The fire pops and crackles busily, snickering to itself as the peaceful evening flows on—past and present thoughts mix and blend, drowsy.
The distinctive sound of falling snow on this silent night.
Photo by hello aesthe
The Divine Series
I’m excited to showcase my books on The Divine Series page. Follow the link to my Author page
Book Release! Divine Appointments…
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!!!
Please share and help me get the word out 
You can visit my author page on FB @MelissaGiomiauthor and IG: @melissa.giomi
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!
Backroads and Quiet Places
Maybe it’s something we do as we grow older or perhaps it’s just me. In this second half of my life there’s an urgency, not full of panic and fear, but an urgency I feel thrumming in my mind, spirit, and body to fine tune, declutter and make a wide-open space for peace.
Those things that once consumed my thoughts, to-do lists, and vacation plans are beginning to fall by the wayside taking a back seat to peace. Vacations full of fast-paced and exciting adventures don’t hold the same attraction they once did. When I honestly name how I want to spend my time my thoughts drift to backroads and quiet places.
Exploring small towns at a slower pace with opportunities to see natural beauty, experience the quiet of a backroad, a hike, a cabin retreat in the forest, a day at a quiet beach, a picnic at the duck pond, sitting around a campfire, or exploring quaint downtown shops at a leisurely pace – this brings me joy and happiness. I want to seek out ways to saturate myself with peace in those backroads and quiet places. To be a “good” tired at the end of a day spent simmering in joy and peace, is what I crave.
In this season of life, I’m working on choosing myself as a priority; choosing who and what stays or goes. I don’t want to make space for unnecessary drama, strife, and people-pleasing. It will always be there demanding attention, and sometimes I will have to give it a bit, however I get to decide how long I will allow, if at all, these unwelcome things to take up time and become unhealthy distractions.
Perhaps the urgency can be described as longing for a gentleness that covers and quiets me soothing wounds and hurts, and loosening memories and frustrations so I can let them go. I hear it in the Whispers of the One who sees every bit of me; the One who knows every thought, intention and understands all the whys, even when I don’t. I want to trust that He has me and will handle those things that want to rob me of peace and a calm spirit. His whisper breaks the chains of lies shouting that boundaries are selfish and ungodly. I’m a priority to Him. I’m wrapped up in heavenly wings, songs, and delight. I can put down those things that steal life, gratitude, and peace. I’m invited to rest in Him as He opens up backroads and quiet places sprinkled and seasoned with His peace. “He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.” Psalm 18:19
Memories
All is quiet this morning in the forest and meadow surrounding the cabin. A gentle breath of wind shushes through the meadow grasses and whispers through the pine branches.
Pinks and orangey yellow streaks are breaking just above the treetops announcing that the sun is on its way. Nature’s alarm clock. Soon the morning creatures will stir, scout, and begin their breakfast journeys.
Warming pine and that distinctive mountain scent wafts and swirls in the chill morning air, reminding me of long-ago summer mornings at a favorite campground in the mountains. I can see, hear, and smell it all in my mind – the bossy scrub jays shouting and squawking as they flit from tree to tree, cocking an alert black eye at the wooden table in case some of the breakfast fixings tumble off. The smokey scent of the testy, cold campfire that fights to get going again in the morning, reminds me of my dad who would mess with it until it was hot and roaring, so we could toast crescent rolls on a stick over the fire.
My steamy coffee warms my chilled hands, as I sit on the deck overlooking the drowsy meadow. The sun is higher now and beautiful streaks of sunlight boldly push through the tree branches. The rays of light are ethereal and sacred; the Creator at work bringing beauty to the morning. The way the light beams fall on the meadow and through the trees reminds me of times spent hiking – just He and I – where hurts and wounds were poured out in raw honesty as Truth and Healing flooded in to soothe, heal, and mend what was broken. Divine encounters.
Breakfast accompanies me to the deck. The homey scent of pancakes, bacon, and coffee mingling with the scent of pine, sparks a memory of my grandma making breakfast on a Saturday morning. The scent of pine trees was always present and is a treasured undercurrent to my memories of her. How happy and exciting it felt to be in her home, surrounded by woods, good food and the squirrels’ feet pattering across the roof. Safe. Home. Content.
The sun is making its way across the sky, so it’s time for a hike to the lake to see who is stirring and fussing about this morning. Always an adventure!
The strewn pine needles are soft and comfy underfoot. Cracks and twig-snaps along the edges of the trail accompany me as I make my way along the well-worn path. The rustling and murmurs of the woods is comforting and peaceful. Nature is quiet, but it’s not. Calm and restful, yet busy and purposeful as birds and watchful animals go about their business.
The lake will peek into view around this next bend in the path. The familiarity invites a feeling of nostalgia – wistful happiness with a tinge melancholy that doesn’t want to be overlooked and dismissed – wishing that time would stop so the safety and peace of the memories would live on and on, drowning out the stress, noise and unknown of what’s ahead.
There it is – the lake! Life is in full swing here with ducks and geese gliding along the smooth water, snipping at bugs, and nibbling on grasses along the shore. Their contented chuckles and fussing drift over the water as they chat over their breakfast.
A creature rambling through the reeds searching for a snack makes slippery, muddy sounds along the bank near an ancient tree. A long-abandoned rope swing, frayed, tattered and limp tosses meekly in the light breeze that’s beginning to ruffle the water.
Sitting under the shady branches with the fishy, watery scent of the lake breeze fluffing my hair, I recall the excitement of fishing at another lake in the mountains with my grandpa. The careful choosing of bait, adding the weights and a bright red bobber. Time seemed to slow as the line was cast, reeled, and repeated over the course of a warm summer afternoon – the same breeze with an earthy, fishy lake water scent keeping the worst of the heat at bay. The memory of it makes me smile.
Feeling dozy, I lie back on the blanket I brought and close my eyes for a spell. The earthiness of the lake combined with the close warmth of the afternoon fills my mind with much needed peace and I nap for a bit, letting childhood memories of cloud watching and camping take me away.
Startled awake by the fussy chatter of a grey squirrel in the branches above, I stretch, gather up my things and head back to the cabin. What a beautiful way to spend a lazy afternoon. Looking to the sky, I see the sun beginning to make its descent.
Relaxing on the deck after a quick dinner of grilled chicken and homemade potato salad, I sip a lovely cup of herbal tea as the sun showcases it final burst of color before setting behind the treetops.
The forest and meadow quiet into evening and the first pinprick of stars make their appearance. As the night gentles and cools, I grab an old quilt off the chair. It feels safe to be wrapped up and warm this chilly evening. There are unknowns, mysteries and strange sounds that move around me in the now dark forest, but I don’t feel afraid. Gazing up at the stars, a familiar feeling of being deeply loved washes over me. You created these stars and heavenly bodies, placing them just so in the night sky – giving direction to the weary traveler and bringing light to one who feels lost. When I felt tiny and insignificant in a vast sea of humanity, You reached out to me with lovely bursts of light breaking through the darkness and spoke to my soul of hope, purpose, and safety. You still see me. The lovely carpet of stars in the dark night sky continues to speak of love, peace, and warmth on the quiet deck of a cabin in the woods. Beautiful memories of healing, redemption and above all, hope.
December Moon
The December night is dark and deep, stillness and chill seeping into bones despite the layering of coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and thick soled boots.
Footfall is muffled and shushed along the pine strewn path, boots stirring up the ancient scent of the woods and winter shrouded earth.
The hush of the forest has a particular sound – not truly silent to the careful observer, but full of the rustle, scurry, and purpose of those living in the night. Frigid air gives their purpose a new vigor with warm dens and beds of fern, pine needles and forest detritus waiting to give shelter.
Deep, full inhalations fill lungs to the brim with invigorating, life giving air. Oddly, the heavy chill, though it burns and startles, offers peace and affirmation of knowing one is alive and well. Sometimes it takes the cloak of a dark, wintry, forest-y night to bring clarity to the chaos and exposure of living in the light.
Rounding the curve in the path, the stillness of the pond with the shimmery moon-glow trail on the dark water is breathtaking. A path of light and love painted on the water by the brush strokes of One who loves to bring awe, redemption, and delight. Loved. Seen. Safe.
The sound of stealthy prowling comes from the edge of the pond as a night hunter shifts and waits for dinner. Circle of life.
Moving along as the chill ever deepens, the hooting of an owl adds to the frosty night noises – haunting and lovely it is primitive and wild.
The path around the pond circles back on itself and my boots head back to the cabin. Thoughts of the cheerful fire in the firepit on the deck and the warm sherpa blanket urge me onward at a brisker pace.
Wrapped in the cozy blanket, Irish coffee in the large Christmas mug warms my cold hands; steam rising merrily as the fire mesmerizes.
A scrabbling, crunchy noise interrupts my reveries as a creature moves about to the left of the deck, digging through pine needles and foliage for a midnight snack. Curious glowing eyes spy on me. The shadowy outline of a fat raccoon in the faint reach of the firelight watches me until curiosity wans and she moves along.
Leaning back in the deck chair the stars appear strewn about like so much glitter landing at random points. But nothing is truly random. The night sky is beautifully planned and decorated with patterns and puzzles of light created to lead the ancient traveler.
Frosty breath wafts up as if making its way to the austere moon that guides, watches and travels the night sky. Fascinating to imagine all the eyes that have looked up in the night for navigation and a sense of constancy in a world that doesn’t always appear that way. A balm to lonely souls, the shining beacon of light makes things feel safer and less chaotic.
The shepherds on that holy and silent night looked up into the same chilled, star filled sky that I see on my deck as the fire glows and snickers to itself. The same moon watched on as the Holy One became man, as angelic hosts filled the still and starry night with the most awe-inspiring, stunning display of power and love that humankind has ever known.
It is not by happenstance that eyes are drawn upward – seeking wisdom, direction, meaning; safety, love and blessed peace.
From a cold and silent winter night, filled with moonlight and stars came the Light of the world. A Divine exchange between Creator and creation. Ultimate gift. Unconditional love. Emmanuel.
Warm bed beckons and I head inside, mind full of awe as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of the gift humanity was given on that night so long ago.
The old wood stove burns quiet, drowsy warmth. I curl up under quilts and comforters as the light of the moon gently glows through the snug window. Thoughts of angels, joy and eternity soothe and calm into restful sleep – a silent and holy night where all is calm and bright under a December moon.
The Cabin
SPRING
Bright morning with clean, clear air; the smell of new growth is rejuvenating.
Light and promising, the still early sharpness of new Spring dances on the light breeze.
A cup of English Breakfast tea with bacon on toast sits with me on the high deck overlooking the meadow that soon blends into the forest.
I smile and greet the flowers dotting the meadow below me with their heavy, waving heads; their pale colors teasing at the intensity to come.
Welcome Spring!
Green-yellow shoots of new grass force their way up through the gentle earth, stretching and coming alive under the light yellow sun.
The morning is already noisy; full of life; energetic.
The happy creek is splashing and rushing in full force; water from melted snow forcing its way down the mountain; tender reeds and cattails making a brave show of guarding the greening banks.
Birds have been up since dawn, delighting in the awakening bugs, fallen seeds and promises of good things to come.
It is time to hike; time to get out there and discover the hidden gems, which are just awakening and coming to life after a long winter of silent sleep.
The ground is still soft and springy, pliant under my slightly muddy boots.
Brisk walking, blood is pumping; alert for woodland creatures also enjoying the new birth and tender delicacies all around.
The shining lake seems happy; full to the brim with birds and creatures and bugs galore, busily gorging on Spring’s buffet; the light breeze ruffling the water; this lifts the soul.
Pleasant afternoon turns to cool evening; sun going down.
Sunset on the deck during the evening meal of pasta and salad with lemony iced tea; lovely.
Forest quieting; night falling.
SUMMER
Rising early to savor the cool of the morning; the sun is peeking over the tree tops.
Ginger Peach tea with granola, fresh fruit and yogurt accompany me to the deck.
Hello Summer!
It’s a lazy morning; creatures are up and stirring, but the pace is less frenetic.
The babble of the creek has taken on a more languid pace and I can just make out some footprints along its bank. Raccoon? Skunk?
Birds call and swoop; coaxing young ones to take flight; bugs and other delicacies brought to the wide, young mouths waiting inside downy nests.
Meadow flowers and grasses are tall now; twisting and dipping in the warming, lazy breeze.
The pace is certainly slower.
It’s time to layer up for the hike. Pleasant now, but the afternoon promises to be warm and close.
Canteens of water, beach towel, swim suit. To the lake!
Cool mountain water zings the skin and wakes up the senses after that first daring plunge!
Warm, drowsy, pine scented air creates the perfect backdrop for napping on the old beach towel.
Memories of camping and outdoor adventures flit though the mind as I gently doze.
Sleepy and comfy.
Watching and listening to scurrying, rustling sounds in the reeds by the lake; family of ducks skimming the lake for water bugs, tiny frogs and dangling berry bushes.
Duck family leaves behind ripples that spiral outward toward the shore.
Heading back to fire up the grill; lovely night to bar b que and drink chilled white wine as the sun goes down, leaving a fiery trail on the horizon.
Sun has set; here come the marshmallows, grahams and chocolate bars.
The evening is still and pleasant; perfect for S’mores and stories.
Forest quieting; night falling.
AUTUMN
A chill in the morning air; sleepy sun pushes over the horizon; animals stirring.
Hot coffee with cream; warm oatmeal with brown sugar, golden butter and walnuts heads out to the deck with me.
Cheers, Autumn!
The chair is cool to the touch.
Warm hoodie and long yoga pants are just right for this crisp morning.
Warm, but less intense sun light filters down through the beginning to be bare branches, leaving a warm impression. Lovely.
The air has that certain and distinctive Fall scent to it of browning leaves, dusty earth, crisp air that isn’t quite ready to mellow into deep winter. The comforting scent of pine.
The creek water pushes on, but with a slower gurgle; a gentle flow. Animal tracks at the edges; areas that are flattened down from what remains of a creature bed.
There are resilient, strong, stubborn grasses and flowers that are not yet ready to relax; that persist and bring color to a waning meadow and forest.
Time to hike.
Hiking in Autumn demands layers.
The warmer meadow where the sun still reaches and pours warmth onto backs and shoulders; then deeper into the woods with that unmistakable chill of the forest; fresh and chill it demands a bit faster pace to keep comfortable.
That lovely, primal scent of pine.
Boots kick up a bit of dust; that leftover pliant earth from Spring.
The lake is restful; last vestiges of birds calling and making their Southward plans.
A bit too chilly for a dip in the calm water.
A calm and peaceful place to sit among fallen leaves and turning grasses and read, until the Autumn sun begins its descent.
Chipmunks and fluffy grey squirrels are chattering; roaming the branches and fallen leaves for those precious seeds and nuts that will be hidden away.
Scurrying and intent on seeking and finding provision.
Winter is coming.
The lit grill gives off welcome warmth; as aromas of grilling vegetables and juicy steaks fill the air around the cozy cabin. Potatoes are baking in the oven.
Red wine with dinner on the deck; sunlight fading; S’mores make their last appearance of the season.
A warm fire might be nice tonight.
Forest quieting; night falling.
WINTER
Blankets feel so warm in the cold morning; is it time to get up?
All is quiet outside the cabin. The watery sun seems to be struggling, too.
Rise and grab long, warm, heavy sweatpants and sweatshirt plus thick fuzzy socks.
First, hot coffee with cream; the mug sends warmth to already chilled hands.
Stoking up the fire again; warmth begins to infuse the chilly cabin.
Ah, Winter! You’ve arrived!
Second cup of steaming coffee accompanies me to the deck.
I have to smell the freezing, chill air; so brisk it takes the breath away.
There it is! That crisp and lovely scent of pine. Refreshing!
Nowhere to sit with the coffee, since the chairs are covered in ice.
Brave birds cover the bird feeder and relish the seeds I’ve put there for them; fluffed feathers making them look like plump, roly poly little things.
More coffee, eggs, sausage and toast go with me to the little table by the window, as I watch the winter morning unfold.
Fire crackling well now; should last for a bit.
Donning hat, gloves, scarf, heavy jacket, boots; out I go to brave the cold and see the meadow and forest that winter has created.
No one is really out and about this morning.
Evidence of creature activity is all around, but those brave souls must already be back in warm, earthy dens; watching me from hollowed out logs or nests in tree branches; wondering at the sight of me.
Trudging on for a bit; breathing in the wintry, piney air; chilled nose, ears and chin; time to turn back.
The idea of a warm blanket, hot water with lemon, comfy slipper socks by the fire with my book is too strong of a call.
Shedding layers and climbing under the blanket, I relax and am swept away by the book.
Clouds have rolled in while I read. Brisk wind crept up and is rattling bare branches. Colder.
Dinner tonight will be hot bubbling soup and warm bread that I took a break from reading to prepare.
Back under the blanket, watching the fire, I hear the shushing sound of ticking snow on the deck.
Tomorrow morning will be white.
The forest is quiet; night has fallen on the cabin.
Extravagant Hope 