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.
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.
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 stairs; 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 underfoot.
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 invite 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 to listen. 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…the anticipation of Christmas Eve and the Greatest gift to mankind.
Ah! Penny’s Pastries!
The 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 time flies! There is more to see, so I head out into the bustling square.
Lunchtime!
Next stop, Lazzaro’s Deli. A prosciutto, ham, 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 varieties 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 spend 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. An 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 left over 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. I imagine a dark starry night long ago when angels’ songs announced the arrival of Hope.
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 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 shop and make my way along the darkening lane to the cottage. As I walk and breathe in the frigid night air, 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.
May the kindness, compassion, and deep love of Jesus cover you, keep you, shield you, and encourage you as He meets all of your needs, and speaks life and acceptance into your spirit.
“Earth has no words that can convey the holy calm of a soul leaning on Jesus.” Charles Spurgeon
Read these words again. One more time, and again. There truly are no words that describe the feeling of being immersed in His peace and His presence – fully in. The mysterious calm, the supernatural holiness. The only thing I have found that begins to come close is sitting in nature allowing the creation of His hands, His breath, His heart to wash over me, and surround me, and heal me. Nature speaks of Him always. Every color, sound, and scent leads back to Him. Those who seek Him will find Him.
“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”
I was drinking my coffee in the hush of this foggy morning, savoring being alone before the demands of the day started fussing and insisting on attention. The soft light from these brightly glowing candles was soothing and peaceful.
Sitting in my kitchen listening to the world wake up, I noticed how easily the candlelight was swayed and pulled toward any disturbance in the air. The little lights struggled to stay lit, bouncing and fluttering to the whims of the draft, helpless to move, shift, or regain equilibrium on their own.
Watching the brave dancing of the candlelight brought to mind Psalm 91. Aren’t we often like these confident candles? We burn bright, strong, and lovely when things are calm and no disturbances surround us. We are proud and sure of ourselves and our world.
But…drafts happen. Gusts of change, storms of conflict, gales of fear, and the cold winds of diagnoses come, often suddenly, leaving us ill prepared and helpless. We blow around in the confusion and anxiety fearing that our light will extinguished; that we won’t be able to stay steady on our own.
Quietly at first, you hear a still, yet powerful voice echoing through the chaos, breaking through the whims of the wind. We hear Him and call out for help, rescue, and hope. Then, comes the brush of feathers along your cheek, the hush of being wrapped up tightly in wings of safety and peace, the scent of heaven surrounding you as you are sheltered, protected, and delivered from the chaos and debris the world and the wounds of humanity throw at us each day. He is faithful. He is good. He alone is the answer to the fickle winds of chaos that always come as part of living on this earth. But, we don’t have to save ourselves. He came to do that. Emmanuel, God with us. Always. Everywhere.
“Only when you first unwrap the gifts of blessings to you can you be wrapped up as a gift of blessings to others. Only when you are overwhelmed with the goodness of God can you overflow with the goodness of God to others.” – Ann Voskamp “The Greatest Gift”
May we be overwhelmed this Christmas season with the goodness of God. The greatest gift ever given to us is His presence. May the overflow of His gift of Himself and His goodness leak out of our hearts, our eyes, our mouths, our voices, and our hands spilling onto everyone we encounter. Blessings upon blessings, gift upon gift – ripples of peace, love, and kindness spinning and circling wider and wider. His coming, Advent, happening everywhere.
The house is silent tonight. Firelight flickers and logs snap in the woodstove. Tucked in and cozy under the quilt I feel peaceful. The only light is from the snickering fire and the Christmas lights strewn along the mantle glowing warm and soft. The small nativity scene nestled among the gentle light is beautiful. The Savior, Light of the world, Prince of Peace came for me all those years ago. He’s still coming. It wasn’t a one-time thing.
Every day He comes for me and He comes for you. The healing, the protection, the peace, the hope, and the rescue; it never stops. It renews and is reborn. His pursuit of us in the midst of the mundane and the ordinary, the fiery trials, the seasons of running from Him, the times of quiet rest, and the brilliance of joy and victory will continue until the appointed time when God Most High welcomes us Home.
This season of Advent is mysterious, supernatural, holy, and beautiful. I’m in awe of it all.
Sitting quietly before Him in the silence and peace of His presence, my heart feels full, safe, and full of hope, so much hope.
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”[a] (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:23 NIV
This scripture shows up a lot during the Christmas season. A beautiful celebration and comforting reminder that the Savior came as a helpless baby into a dark world that so desperately needed Him – it still does. We still do.
If we remember this soul-deep anticipation, quickening of the heart, the feeling of something greater than us coming as the holidays pass and life goes back to the humdrum, ordinary business, trials, and victories – might we live a little differently?
I think we might.
Emmanuel, God with us.
Sit in the stillness of this, the power of this, the holiness of this, the immense love that is in this name.
Everything that humanity strives toward, desperately needs, and seeks in all the wrong places is found in this name, Emmanuel. God with us. Jesus. What more could we need?
Jesus is our hope, our protector, our creator, the One who sees us in all of our human messiness and miraculously draws even closer to us because of it. He searches you out in the dark chaos of the world, and calls you by name to just come to Him. That’s all. Just come. Just let Him love you, restore you, heal you, let you by still waters, and lead you to the cross where all that hurts, wounds, and seeks to destroy can be laid down once and for all at His feet.
What might happen if we begin each day with His name in our hearts and on our lips – Emmanuel, God with us, with you, with me. Not just during the holidays, but every single day. He never stops seeking us and finding us, healing us and loving us, delighting in us and going with us in all things ordinary and extraordinary.
May Jesus, the Prince of Peace, Light in the darkness, Healer of hearts go with you today and always. You are loved. Peace be with you. Emmanuel be with you.
“For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.”
He sees. He knows. The fear that sneaks into your thoughts and intrudes into your daily routine. He is right there waiting for you to grab onto His outstretched hands that have your name engraved in the palms. He is God Almighty, Warrior, Defender, Prince of Peace, Lover of your soul, and Lord of Lords. He’s got you and is telling you not to be afraid. He will help you. Let Him. Release the tight grip you have on whatever that fear, worry, or wound is and let Him take it. Let Him heal you. He is faithful. He is good. He loves you. Peace be with you.