Worthy of a Glance – 2021

I have decided that this year IS worthy of contemplation – but only a brief spell of such looking back – unlike many of my past year-end summations.


As I glance over my shoulder at the year that is almost past, I see fog rather than succinct episodes of time. How is it that another year has passed? How is it that I have lived through fifty such turnings of a year?


This year taught me that while I may have miraculously made it to 50, I am not invincible. One would think I would only have to learn that lesson once, but alas, this year also revealed a hint of obstinance within me. On the bright side, these nefarious maladies have once again instilled in me a hunger for life – real life – not the “settled for instead” life I have allowed to dominate my existence.


Turning 50 reminded me I likely have more years behind me than I do ahead; precious time I do not have to take for granted.


Such wisdom only comes with the walk, and I have walked more than ran many miles this year. I know God was with me through all of them – even on the darkest and most painful stretches. He was with me, too, in the quiet golden moments by the water and in his meadows and on my solo wanderings in mountain splendor. I am grateful that I have found new strengths and ways to peace.


I still have much to learn – I know – hard to believe at my age – but I am well-prepared for the lessons yet to come. I trust that as C.S. Lewis said so well: “There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”


I am ready for this ragged old year to pass, and I am looking forward in hope to the promise the new year brings. Indeed, we are each made new every morning and we walk with new life when we walk with God every day.


As we close on this fog of a year – I wish you a time of reflection and thankfulness for this journey of life. It was never promised to be easy but with Christ as our guide, it can always be hopeful.
My prayer for 2022 is that each of you awaken with this hope each morning.


May your days be full of hope and peace and LIFE in the New Year.


“But as for me, I will sing about your power. Each morning I will sing with joy about your unfailing love. For you have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress.” – Psalm 59:16


“All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” – John 1:3-5


“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” – 2 Corinthians 5:17


“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” – Isaiah 43:19

LET YOUR LIGHT SO SHINE!!!

Christmas Eve – 2021

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness– on them light has shined. You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”  Isaiah 9:2-4,6

Tonight, I will read those words and be reminded that Jesus Christ came to be the light of the world and light our way to a new way of being – of living in His light and in the freedom of His almighty love.

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for the gift of your Son, a light that shines even brighter in the darkness that has found its way into my life this year.  Thank you for your grace and for showing me the truth: that You are far greater than my troubles, far worthier of trusting than the inner voices that beckon me. For I know that with you, all things are possible and with you, I am never alone. Thank you for directing my path and my heart.

As I write this, a beam of sunlight just broke through grey snow flurried skies. The light really does shine through the darkness – and it shines brightly in my heart in a new way this Christmas. Thank you, Lord, for your redeeming grace, your mighty love, your wonderful ways.

For those who are struggling this Christmas – wondering where this Prince of Peace is – longing for a sign of His love in your life – know that He is there, quietly working His ways for you. Persevere in faith. It does get better. A new day will dawn.

May this Christmas Eve have a special significance for all of us— broken people in need of a Savior, who comes to us tonight just as we are….

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” John 1: 1-4

Let your light so shine!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

The Gift of Just Being – Love

The people walking in darkness
    have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
    a light has dawned.” – Isaiah 9: 2

We are in the waning days of December and for me, it is the time of Advent – a time of waiting, anticipation, and personal preparation for the coming of our Savior and what used to be my favorite time of year – Christmas!!  A time filled with traditions and festivities handed down to us from time immemorial. If you are anything like me – sentimental, deep thinking and even deeper feeling, you probably feel everything more acutely at this time than other times of the year. And as luck would have it – this year takes the cake for high emotional content.

You see, I am feeling a bit at odds with myself and the machinations of the season – because this is my 50th year – this is my 50th Christmas – and what have I made of it???  It should be a spectacular celebration – no?

I love Christmas, I have from my earliest memory. I readily admit to getting wrapped up (pun intended) in the spirit of the season, merry-making galore. Before moving to the Flathead, during the months of November and December I would spend days adorning my parent’s house with lights, so much so that when I flipped the switch the rest of the neighborhood dimmed. Always alive in me was the real reason for the season, the coming celebration of the birth of my Lord and Savior. My family has a strong Scandinavian heritage and I learned at a very young age the art and technique of making lefse and krumkake, traditional holiday food offerings found in any Norwegian home. I was rolling perfect rounds of lefse by the time I was five and have been eating it with delight ever since – a fact of which my grandmother would be immensely proud.

Our home was always filled with music: piano, guitar, and good old-fashioned records on the turn-table! I started Christmas caroling and singing in choirs in my teenage years -I loved bringing the message of good news in song to the hearts of people I would never otherwise know. I have sung in choirs ever since – at times singing in 4 different show choirs at once!  My Christmas goodwill has always been focused on spreading cheer to those far and near, through music, acts, words, and gifts. I truly believe we are God’s light in this world and this was my way of sharing that message brightly.

Looking back, I long for what now seems like such a simple but wonderful way of celebrating the holidays. I long for my childhood wonder and acceptance of the way we did things simply because that is how we did things. I don’t recall my parents being as stressed out around the holidays as I have allowed myself to become today. Of course, they didn’t have social media reminding them what everyone else was doing prompting them to wonder “how do we compare?”

But this year is different. My schedule remains empty of umpteen  rehearsals and choir performances and aside from the occasional potato I haven’t baked a thing! Christmas cards remain unwritten and I’ve barely touched the piano keys. Sure, the house is decorated as it “always” is but the rest has fallen by the wayside – victims of the pandemic and my own malaise. I find myself in a liminal state of fatigue, fatigued by having nothing to be stressed about and fatigued by the thought of actually doing something. And this has me feeling all out of sorts – guilty for feeling as I do.

Expectations are high when it comes to celebrating the holidays. Social media highlights all that we don’t have in our lives – be it time, money, relationships, a happy home, a social life, health, you name it. Advertisements tell us we are going to “Win the holiday” by patronizing such and such retailer; “You got this!” they exclaim as a family stands back and admires perfection personified in Christmas lights. Who doesn’t want to “win the holiday” but in reality, who can?  For the longest time, I tried but I always ended up feeling defeated and depleted.

All these images of happy traditions have a way of coloring our own expectations of peace and happiness around the holidays. It is indeed a wonderful time of year in which we focus on making and spreading joy, a time I have always cherished and looked forward to. But I have also experienced the emptiness inside after too much money is spent, all the presents are given, and life just goes on the next day. I have felt my heart break when my high expectations of the perfect family gathering went up in the smoke of a blazing argument. I have collapsed in illness from the stress of over-extending and over-committing myself to every activity that came my way. Most acutely, I have felt the cold sting of loneliness at a time when love and family sparkles in the lives of all those around me. This year I’m not sure what I am feeling – suspended, perhaps?

These are the dual realities of the holidays that approach. A time when both joy and sadness, quiet and commotion compete for a presence in our lives. My own experiences with both the light and dark aspects of the holidays have heightened my emotional sensitivities and my empathy for others who also struggle at this time of year.

Alas, here we are, Christmas comes whether we are in the mood or not and another journey around the sun is almost complete. Inherent in that journey is the realization that this moment in time cannot be repeated, ever again. And yet, year after year we close out another chapter of our lives and begin a new one with timeworn traditions that encourage us to hold on to the past all the while looking ahead to the unforeseeable future! How strange!! No wonder I can’t get in to see a counselor until February!

Everything we anticipated and planned for ourselves this year and in our life thus far has either come to pass or it hasn’t. Too often, I find myself wandering in the wilderness of what was rather than journeying forward to what will be; focusing on the “what hasn’t” instead of contemplating on the “what has.”

In his collection of essays, The Spirituality of Living, Henri Nouwen writes:

“In the world there are many other voices speaking – loudly: “Prove that you are the beloved. Prove you’re worth something. Prove you have any contribution to make. Do something relevant. Be sure to make a name for yourself. At least have some power — then people will love you; then people will say you’re wonderful, you’re great.”

He goes on to say: “These voices are so strong. They touch our hidden insecurities and drive us to become very busy trying to prove to the world that we are good people who deserve some attention. Sometimes we think that our busyness is just an expression of our vocation, but Jesus knew that often our attempts to prove our worth are an example of temptation. Right after Jesus heard the voice say, “You are my beloved,” another voice said, “Prove you are the beloved. Do something. Change these stones into bread. Be sure you’re famous. Jump from the Temple…” Jesus said, “No, I don’t have to prove anything. I am already beloved.”

Perhaps that is the truth God wanted me to see after all the years I’ve spent wrapped up in the busy-ness of the season. None of it matters!! Yes, the twinkling lights shine in the darkness, yes it feels good to give gifts in pretty packages and bake yummy things while carols are playing and snow softly falls beckoning you out to build the perfect snowman. But in the end – all of those things disappear as quickly as the lights come off the roof, the gifts are forgotten amid all the discarded wrapping, the snow melts, and the yummy in your tummy ceases to feel or look so good.

This truth comes to us from, “a voice crying in the wilderness,” who tells us to let go of what has laid claim to our lives – repent – if you will – from the powers that be and hold sway in our lives – be they political, economic, or status oriented. Calling us to escape the wilderness by letting go of the binding chains of fear, anger, disappointment, guilt, regret. loss, despair, and sorrow.  Calling us to turn away from life-draining busyness, quenchless ambition, and the need for approval. Calling us to freedom – because our broken relationships, our broken hearts, our harsh and critical voices, all the things that lay claim to our lives, that have filled our past, taught us “how to live,” and shaped our character – none, NONE are more powerful than God.

God wants us to know there is nothing to prove. He came to us because of the sorry state we were and are in, not because our houses were beautifully decorated and our kitchens were full of merry making!  That you didn’t achieve all your goals  for this year – perhaps you even failed miserably – hear this – it doesn’t matter! You are quite simply and profoundly beloved by God and because of that you can BE love. The true joys of the season and of life are not found under trees or in shopping carts or even along glowing roof-lines. In this beautiful yet broken world filled with terror and tradition, competition and caring, winning and wonder, the joy we seek can only be found in our hearts and the hearts of others. True joy comes only when we accept that we are from the beginning beloved by God and freed to love.

When we share God’s light and love with those of every walk we encounter, be it the hungry at the shelter or the stressed-out mom in line behind us, that is where we find joy. When you hold the door to the post office open for a package-laden distressed style maven and they sputter their surprised gratefulness, that is joy. When you extend your snow-blowing to your neighbor’s section of the sidewalk, that is joy. When you hear an “I am so glad you called, I needed this talk so much” on any day in May because you took the time to call instead of text someone you are thinking of – that is joy magnified.  By releasing ourselves from our high expectations of celebration and need for showing how well we can live our lives we free ourselves to find joy in actively and expectantly living in the One, Our Savior, who has already come and whose true light shines in the darkness and brings peace to our hearts.

None of us knows what tomorrow or the year ahead will bring. But, imagine beginning the new year off with a fresh start, anticipating the unknown with confidence that a way will be made for you – no matter how daunting, unimaginable, or seeming improbable the future is. That gives me courage to quit wandering in my wilderness.

I pray that you are able to open and live into the gift already given to you – the joy of trusting in God’s amazing grace for the days to come. Let go of all the things you think you have to do and the past that you cannot change no matter how hard you try. Let His faith in you, hope for you, and love for you strengthen you and guide all that you do in the days to come.

Wishing you a peaceful Christmas and a bright New Year!!

Let your light so shine!!

4 Years and Counting

“Out of the ashes of the past two years – the loss, the grief, the growth, the discovery – comes the promise of hope and the light and warmth of a new life. Meet Ember. Elkhorn Mountain Southpaw’s Ember of My Heart.” December 9, 2017

4 years ago I made the longest 5 hour drive home on icy, snowy roads in the dark with a yipping, yowling bundle of joy as my co-pilot!!!  Today, I can’t imagine my life without Ember. He may not be this tiny ball of fluff anymore but he doesn’t know that. He still talks and squarks (an odd mix of squeaking and barking when we walk), his fur is soft as velvet, and he still won’t go to sleep unless he has commandeered the entirety of my arm. Ember is the first dog I have ever climbed mountains with – and I must say there is something amazing about sharing a summit view with a pup. Seeing the world through his eyes is so much more exciting.

Of the 5 Brittanies I have loved in my life – and this is hard to say because I loved them all so very much – Ember is the most gentle, loving and mindful. No, he isn’t my first like Patsy who set the bar high for her successors, he doesn’t sit on top of his doghouse like Bisken, he doesn’t come at the sound (yes sound) of cheese like Hunter, or strike a pose quite like Tucker would, but his insistence on sharing my space, his energy, his silly fear of cats, and his sheer joy of life and being loved is like none before.

With each passing day I love him even more – even as our life together grows more routine. I want to stop time.  I want his youthful energy and puppy eyes and wiggles (still at 4!!) to last forever. I want to hold on to him forever and I know I will. He brought light to the darkest time of my life and he will forever live in my heart.

Let your light so shine!!

It’s Not Christmas, Yet!

I tried to decorate the Christmas tree last night, after all I had taken a three day weekend in order to “get a jump on” Christmas but I couldn’t do it. Yes, I have the white lights up on the house outside, the candles are in the windows, and garland adorns my old Baldwin Acrosonic upright. But the tree remains bare. Bare because yesterday was December 5th and not December 6th. For as long as I can remember the rule was no Christmas until after Mom’s birthday… As life went on and life got busier and children grew up and got jobs and the decorating had to happen early or not all, there was a bit of lenience to that rule  – except for the Christmas tree. And even that rule was broken a few times much to my mother’s chagrin.  Alas, last night as I brought out the box filled with 50 years of Christmas treasures, I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t December 6th. Mom deserves to be celebrated and so that is what I will do tonight. My mother loved Christmas – in its time-  and so it will be. Me, the tree, and memories – of my mother.
 
 
Because more than any other time of year – my mother comes alive in me now. In the waiting and wondering and preparing the way of the Lord – and preparing myself for the Lord. Today would be her 88th birthday and it is her 5th birthday with our Lord and Savior instead of with me, with us.  And yet, as I go about this season of Advent and the preparations for Christmas, I see her and feel her in almost everything I do. It’s not that our Christmas celebrations were overly joyous – quite often they were anything but! I remember more than a few times in my life feeling distinctly melancholy in the celebrations around Christmas time. Yes, we had all the Christmas trimmings, the Boston Pops Christmas Spectacular album was always playing on the record player, and our home was always decorated in conservative yet beautiful Christmas tidings; but it is in the quiet, simpler moments, in the silence by the fire that I see my Mom.
 
My family has always held firm to the Scandinavian tradition that Christmas Eve is the big event – our presents were opened after church services (yes, often plural), Christmas light tours, supper, and me and Mom playing the piano – while Dad listened in his Lazy Boy eating peanut brittle and my brother – well I am not sure what he was doing! Christmas Eve would often go into the wee hours of Christmas morning. Then off to bed we would go so Santa could come and fill our stockings.
 
 
It was then that Mom would begin tidying up the wrapping paper while waiting for the fire to die. She would write each of us a letter from Santa – including herself, and I imagine breathe a sigh of relief after playing for Christmas services and the weariness from all the rushing-to-church hubbub that happened on Christmas Eve (and always!). She would sit in the silent glow of the Christmas tree as the last of the embers lost their warm glow. We had REAL fires in the fireplace when I was young.  As I got older, much older, I began to stay with my mom during this time. And it was in this – this quiet time of waiting and wondering at the miracle of God coming into this mess of life that I will forever see my mother – weeping.
 
 
I never asked her why or what was wrong. I was at times taken aback, perhaps disillusioned – why would anyone cry at Christmas? My young mind couldn’t fathom it and my older mind couldn’t deal with it.
 
 
Now as I carry on with my own traditions of white lights (they had to be white!) lots and lots of candles, Nativity scene setting, and of course decorating and redecorating to perfection the Christmas tree, I sense deeply the reason for her tears. The joy and warmth and festiveness I endeavor to create in the darkest days of winter contrast greatly from the feelings in my heart – no matter how much Pentatonix Christmas I listen to.
 
 
How very much in need of a Savior I am and this world is! How humbling and amazing that God has claimed me as his beloved – despite my failures, despite my sins, despite everything I try to do that never quite measures up – God loves me, and God loved and still loves my mother!
 
 
I know my mother had her personal struggles – the depth of which can only be appreciated with hindsight and grace. And I know my mother loved our Lord in her sweet, gentle, sometimes broken ways. I understand her tears – of shame and relief, of immense disbelief and incredible faith, of joy and sadness, of turmoil and the sense of peace found in the silence and reflected in the shimmer of white lights.
 
 
At times I long for a red and green holly jolly holiday reality instead of the blue & white Christmas I have come to know so well. But now I know I was seeing the true in-dwelling of God in the tears of my Mom, and I understand why she insisted on the white lights of peace and His radiant grace.
 
 
 
Happy Birthday, Mom… carrying you with me today and always in all ways with love.
 
Let your light so shine.