“ One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.” Psalm 27:4

Two years ago, we started a new family tradition, cutting down a real tree. The day after Thanksgiving, we all climbed into a wagon, tramped around the fields looking for the perfect tree. Some were tall and grand, more than my small living room can handle. Others were thin and spindly, a bit too sophisticated for my liking. I was looking for a tree with character, and eventually landed on one. Then my son and son-in-law began the herculean task of cutting down the tree, while I continued to wander amongst the trees with my grandson, breathing in the fragrant scent of pine.

There is something magical about having a real Christmas tree. In no way am I diminishing the beauty of artificial trees, I enjoyed them for twenty-five years. But there is something extraordinary about bringing something living into your home. First, you deck it with lights, ornaments, and tinsel. Then, throughout the season, you tend it by quenching its thirst. It captures your senses with lights, glitter, and the faint scent of the forest. And if you listen carefully, you may even hear crackles as the tree settles in the quiet of the night.

In the last few years, I have become a seeker of beauty, reflecting God’s goodness. It’s as important to me as the time I spend doing my devotions, while holding a cup of caffeine joy each morning. And it’s the direct antithesis of my experience as a child. For years, I have given more weight to the fleeting childhood moments of happiness than to the depravity that I experienced in sordid, threatening whispers and muffled tears. I treated doughnut visits after the library and tickets to the ice capades as glittery highlights to compensate for a multitude of days living a nightmare. I believed that if I held onto those moments, the other darker, more cringe-worthy moments would hold less weight.

But that’s not true. Those darker moments held me down for years, adding to the weight I already carried with shame, joyless living, and lack of confidence. But slowly, I am taking back the darkness by seeking joy, beauty, and whimsy. C.S Lewis uses the German word “sehusucht” for beauty in his The Great Divorce. Ann Voskamp, in One Thousand Gifts, breaks down the meaning as “to long for beauty like a mania.” She goes on to say, “Beauty is all that is glory and God is Beauty, embodied, glory manifested. That is what I crave: I hunger for Beauty. When I cease the beauty hunt, is that why I begin to starve, waste away?”

That’s the paradox of being a seeker of beauty, it lifts you and you feel lighter. But when circumstances, mindsets, or mental illnesses stop you from hunting for lights on a Christmas tree, snow flurries whisking in the air, or bubbles fermenting in your sourdough, you begin to starve, wasting under weights of darkness and despair. And the more I seek, the more I find. I am enraptured by squirrels in my yard searching for food, enchanted by the luminous moon on dark nights flanked by sparkling stars, and take deep breaths soaking in the smell of citrus as I peel my mandarin. And the more beauty I find, the more the disturbing images of my childhood finally take their proper place, behind the grace of God, who is making something beautiful out of a mess He never intended.

A few days ago, I saw a Facebook memory post about the unexpected tragic death of my Uncle Dennis. For many years, Dennis wavered between being a beauty seeker and succumbing to the cloud of depression. As he hunted in the woods, the playfulness of deer and wildlife enchanted him. As he bit into a Macintosh apple, his eyes would be content with the perfect blend of tart and sweetness. But all too often, these would be clouded with the oppressive weight of clinical depression that held him down with anxiety, frustration, and occasional bitterness.

For over fifty years, Dennis struggled with undiagnosed clinical depression. With the encouragement of his wife, he finally sought help. And when this help, in the form of medicine, made a difference, the clouds lifted. He woke up chasing beauty for the rest of his life. He took a trip across the country, startled by the vivid colors of the desert. He planned hunting escapades with his daughter. He danced freely with his wife on the beaches of Florida, and his eyes twinkled continuously. He was joyful!

For two years with medication, Dennis experienced what C.S. Lewis wrote about in the Weight of Glory. Lewis writes, “We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words – to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” I, too, have bathed in that beauty. It quieted the noise from my childhood and made life more alive. It has awakened senses dampened by abuse. I see, smell, taste, touch, and hear more, ultimately, experiencing the abundant life that Jesus spoke of. And in the process, I am learning to laugh again!

The next item on my Grown-up Christmas list for myself, along with others, is that we chase beauty, and exemplify “sehusucht.” If you need medicine to help awaken the dullness that depression and anxiety create, do so without shame. If you need to start small, by making lists of things that bring you beauty, do so. If you need to add it to your calendar, do so. It doesn’t have to be costly or take up much time. It’s just pausing to notice the little things in life.

It could be as simple as taking a walk in the brisk cold of winter, hunting for signs of life beneath the surface of leaves or snow. You could take a few minutes to slow down and taste the flavors of the spicy chili that graces your table. Listen to the strings and horns combine to create a feeling of joy while playing your favorite Christmas music. Run your fingers across a soft throw enveloping you like a warm hug. Look in the eyes of someone you love and tell them how much they mean to you. As you speak those words, feel the tenderness of their reception flood your soul. Finally, spend a few minutes thanking God, the creator and embodiment of beauty, for making this troubled world a better place.

My world was dark the night Dennis died. I couldn’t process his death. He was the only man in my childhood who made me feel beautiful and who gave me the hope that someday I might be able to twirl. Yet, shortly after his death, I was asked to give his eulogy. And upon writing those words and asking some other women whose life had been touched by his to record “We love you, Uncle Dennis!”, what was a tragedy slowly echoed the beauty of his life and subsequent impact. And when I saw the video of him dancing in Florida, I knew beauty was covering the darkness I felt, reminding me that God was good!

Chase beauty this Christmas! Hunt for it like the perfect Christmas tree! And watch it change your life!

“Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.” Hebrews 13:16

“It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” croons Andy Williams as I am being blitzed with Black Friday ads while trying to read Thanksgiving recipes on my phone. Electronics, sweaters, appliances, and toys will be discounted as shoppers rush to stores or click “add to my cart” the day after Thanksgiving. It’s considered the biggest shopping day of the year, and the ensuing fourth quarter can often make or break a business for the year. For a few years, Black Friday started to encroach on Thanksgiving Day, by having hours on Thursday evening. But the trend seems to be to be changing. Maybe shoppers, dulled by the tryptophan from the turkey, made fewer impulse purchases or maybe the rise of online shopping made opening less profitable. Whatever the reason, more stores seem to be highlighting that they are closed on Thanksgiving, making their business seem less greedy and more family friendly.

Years ago, my husband and I braved a big box toy store for Black Friday. The store was packed like sardines, parents rushing to grab the hottest toy, filling their carts with plastic objects that would eventually end up in landfills. Being on a tight budget, we walked in with the intention of purchasing a few well thought out toys for our children. The line for the checkouts wrapped around the store, and we strategically decided one would wait in line while the other braved the crowds to get the items. By the time I found the toys, my husband had moved up in line a few feet. One hour later, we had our items in a bag as we headed back home. We looked at each other and agreed we would never again participate in that craziness just to save a few dollars.

I recently read a statement from Isabella Rossellini, actor and philanthropist, that struck me. She runs an organic farm and boutique inn, Mama Farm, in New York. She says her slogan is “Make America Small Again!” She emphasizes that by supporting mom-and-pop shops and small businesses, we create places for communities to gather. I would add that they are the heart of a community, selling goods and services curated by someone who cares about the town you live in and is hoping to add beauty to your life.

But like most people, I have gotten into the habit of clicking “purchase” with big businesses. I justify it by saying I’m saving money and/or time. But is that true? I started thinking about the amount of time I spend surfing on my couch for what I think is the perfect gift, and because I have no sense of spatial reasoning, the item arrives often smaller than I anticipated. And as far as saving money, I find myself adding items I don’t need to a cart to reach a certain threshold for free shipping. Also, being cooped up in my home means less community and more isolation.

For these reasons, my husband and I have made it a practice to attempt to support local businesses. In no way are we perfect, we still have packages arriving from big box stores. But when given the opportunity, we try to get out and stroll the streets of Chambersburg and other local communities. We have been delighted to find new bakeries, bookstores, kitchen and home décor stores, and so much more. But what has been even more special is to talk to the business owners and hear their passion, not only for the products they sell, but also for the community they serve!

The Saturday after Thanksgiving has become #ShopSmall, highlighting those small businesses that add beauty to their community. I would like to highlight some of my favorites in Chambersburg. If you start downtown, REmix Design is a great place to pick up a few plants for a living gift. She has an incredible assortment of pots and some great pieces of furniture if you are looking for a new design esthetic. A few doors down, owner Kelly Perry, has captured sunshine in a store with Cheerful Flowers & Gifts. Her shop is full of beautiful candles, lotions, wall hangings, and flowers that immediately delight all the senses. She also has beautiful Bibles, devotion books, and puzzles, and features Rifle Paper Company products. She even has items for little ones that are heirloom quality, I plan to purchase a little stuffed mouse for my granddaughter. During Christmas, she opens the shop next door as a Winter Wonderland, again curating items to boost your holiday spirit. This is not just a store, but a destination!

Further down the street, is Northwood Books, a haven for book lovers. The owner has some new items, but a lot of the books are used. Wandering the aisles, one may find a treasure for a family member or friend, maybe even for yourself. By now, you may need some caffeine to keep you going, so stop by Denim, and get a latte while picking up a bag of locally roasted coffee for the coffee lovers on your list. If you need something sweet, stop by  Brussels Cafe for a crepe or a pastry. Be sure to ask the owner when he plans on making his famous Belgian Hot Chocolate, a rich decadent drink that gives you all the holiday feels. Mark that date on your calendar, it’s something you don’t want to miss!

Further down the street is Black & Blush Boutique, full of clothing, shoes and purses for your dearest friend or sister. You may even find the perfect item for the holiday party you are attending. A few steps away is Willow & Birch, almost a year old, featuring candles, home décor’ and specialty food items for your holiday party. Her items are unique and have similar price points as big box stores. Don’t forget to stop at Lotus Bowls, for a light smoothie bowl or gift cards for those who might want a healthier option after eating decadent food during Christmas. Be sure to peak at the widow display of the legendary Olympia Candy Kitchen. Then step inside, smell the chocolate in the air and pick out an ornament for your tree.

All this shopping has probably made you hungry. If you are looking for a heartier lunch, stop at my all-time favorite restaurant Falafel Shack. The hummus is divine and even self-proclaimed hummus haters are converted. Everything is tantalizing, especially the famous Lamb Kebobs, which are often the day’s special. They even have merchandise featuring their unique logo. I hope to add one of their hats to my collection. If you are looking for authentic, fresh Mexican food, stop at Veroni Cafe, who has just announced that they are moving to larger location at the beginning of the year.

I know these are just a fraction of the small businesses downtown, maybe on your trip you could introduce me to one I have never explored. Regardless, my wish for my Grown-Up Christmas list is that more of us would support small businesses. These owners work hard not because they are hoping to strike it rich, but because they have a dream to offer something unique for their community. They support our festivals and parades. They add diversity to our downtown’s and help foster a sense of community. They are warm and friendly, and by supporting their businesses this Christmas, you are helping to ensure their survival for the next year!

I wish I could include all my favorite businesses in my area, so I am just going to list a few more that are within an hour from my home and some of my favorites in Wisconsin and one in Rhode Island. Be sure to hit the links and check them out.

Chambersburg or within an hour away: Grayce Gardens: House plants, home décor and more, Snavely’s Garden Corner: Full of Christmas trees and ornaments, Kitchen Shoppe: Perfect for the chef on your list, it’s in Carlisle WhistleStop Bookshop: A great independent bookstore in Carlise. Relish Decor: Frederick, Maryland has lots of little shops, but this is my favorite.

Sheboygan Treasures: I miss Christmas in Wisconsin, especially these favorites. Wisconsin Trader: This store celebrates Wisconsin tastefully. Nest: The perfect store where I find something for everyone. Stefano’s Slo-Food Market: This is a foodie destination, where you can find a perfect bottle of olive oil. Relish Kitchen Store: A perfect store for hosting. Olivu 426: Lotions and facial products you can feel good about. Caan’s Floral, Home and Garden: A winter wonderland where I got my favorite gnome.

Tiverton, Rhode Island: I love visiting my grandchildren, but a bonus is when I get a pastry and browse the shops at Groundswell.

“Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.” Psalms 37:4

We have a bad habit of not checking our mail. All our bills are sent electronically, and most of the mail we receive is junk mail, other than my Cherry Bombe and Magnolia magazines. After a week or so, Terry walked from the mailboxes quickly dividing the mail into what was garbage and what was good. I saw his pile of recyclable mail and stopped him with a more empathic voice than I intended, “Don’t throw away the Target toy catalog, I want to look at it!” He seemed kind of surprised, and although I justified it by saying it was for my grandchildren, I felt a tingling inside. I wanted to look at the catalog for myself.

The arrival of the toy catalog is my favorite childhood Christmas memory. I poured over the glossy pages, envisioning the toys I wanted. With a red pen, I circled the Barbie Dreamhouse, imagining how I would have fancy furniture and an elevator in my home. I circled the ice block mold, planning to create my own igloo of safety. I marked the dress-up clothes, pretending for a few minutes that I was a princess from a faraway land. I even made a circle around the art supplies, secretly wishing I was an artist creating beautiful, museum-quality pieces. With each circle, I hoped Santa, or my mom would know what I desired. I knew even as my pen hit the shiny paper, I was never going to get everything I wished for, and maybe not get anything I wished for. But just opening the catalog made me feel hopeful. It created an anticipation that anything was possible. And for a few hours with that catalog, I was an ordinary girl without the burdens no child should carry.

The holiday season has officially kicked off. Explosions of Christmas cheer fill the aisles at Target, Chick-fil-A in Chambersburg drips with lights, and Thanksgiving menus are being planned. Andy Williams bellows “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” while Terry and I are deciding which Christmas book we want to read together this year. It is the season where we are often divided between the Grinches and Scrooges on one side, and the Hallmark groupies and Christmas cheerleaders on the other side.

Although I lean towards the side that loves the holiday season, I, too have experienced some Grinch-like feelings during the season. And I know I am not alone. Sometimes I have felt the stress of producing Christmas magic for others. Other times, I have wanted to cram in everything good and I end the holiday season completely worn out. And sometimes, I have lost any motivation to celebrate the holidays. And sometimes these feelings have happened all at the same time, making me feel like a yo-yo.

For the past five years, I have been reevaluating how I do the holidays. Some of it’s been natural transitions as our children are now married with families of their own. Other decisions have helped me streamline the holidays and make them less stressful. The result is not perfect, I still slide into old habits, but overall, I am more at peace. Most importantly, these decisions have been life giving to me and those around me.

Over twenty years ago, Amy Grant recorded the song “My Grown-up Christmas List” written by David Foster. The song talks about how a little person used to believe that dreams came in packages beneath the tree. But as an adult, this person now has different ideas about what he/she wishes for during the season. Ideas like “that wars would never start, and time would heal all hearts, and everyone would have a friend”.  It’s an ideal list set to music that whispers hope and dreams. And every year, despite my tendency to go off tune, when I hear this song in my home without anyone to judge, I belt out the words along with Amy Grant, and it never gets old.

For the next few weeks, I am going to share my grown-up Christmas list. Some of the list will be practical ideas how I have made my holidays more magical and less stressful. I plan on highlighting some local businesses and how they help make the holidays unique and personal. I also hope to address some of the common pitfalls that make relationships challenging during the holiday season. My prayer is that the list will inspire you to find ways to make the holidays more meaningful. So, join me for the next few weeks as I share with you “My Grown-up Christmas List.”

F7C074″Continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving:” Colossians 4:2

Recently, I found myself digging in the chest freezer looking for my Indian butter chicken leftovers from a few months ago. After moving frozen pizzas and bags of homemade spaghetti sauce, I found one bag of unidentifiable brown meat of some sort. I opened it, smelling hints of barbecue, and quickly realized it wasn’t the Indian food I was craving. I then found another bag of brown stuff, but it looked like ground beef, likely Sloppy Joes. Finally, after moving more food around, I found one more bag of unidentifiable brown food. Opening it up, I caught the scent of curry and other warming spices. This was the food I was looking for and my search ended!

Often, I freeze some of our leftovers because I haven’t figured out the right portion amount for two people. We have no problem eating leftovers, but sometimes, three consecutive taco meals become overkill. Then I make the decision to plop the leftovers in a freezer bag for a future meal. But I have a bad habit of not labeling the bag, trusting that I will remember what was in it. And it never fails: my memory fades as I place more leftovers in the freezer, and soon I have a pile of unidentified brown blobs.

Labels are important, they help us stay organized. Both my daughter and daughter-in-law love making labels. I, on the other hand, like the idea but lack the ambition to carry it out. I over-rely on my memory and find myself sniffing spices, frozen brown meat, and jams due to my lack of labels. I spend extra time opening totes to look for holiday décor and forget where I put certain things. Labeling would make my life easier, but somehow, I can never find a sharpie (probably due to my lack of organization).

This has been a physically challenging year for me. Due to some insurance issues, I haven’t been able to see my rheumatologist. It’s a long story and I won’t bore you with the details. We are hoping to address this soon to get me back on track. But for most of the year, I have been dealing with inflammation all over my body. This has made it difficult to exercise, sleep, or function daily. Some days opening jars can be challenging, while other days just getting out of bed has been a win. Additionally, symptoms of other minor autoimmune disorders related to my RA have increased as well. And if you add that to menopausal symptoms, including insomnia and night sweats, I feel like I have been a hot mess. I haven’t exercised and have lost a lot of my strength, flexibility, and energy.

I could take you on a deep dive and share with you why I think a lot of these issues are happening in my life. Some of it is just life, but a lot of it is directly related to my childhood trauma. It can be frustrating to live this story despite my efforts to improve my health. What is even more frustrating is living with the consequences of someone else’s actions where I had no control.

Despite all these challenges, I don’t want my trauma health issues to be the label I carry. But like my unidentifiable frozen brown blobs, I have been remiss in labeling the good things happening in my life. This habit of recording things that I have been grateful for has sustained me for over ten years, until this year. Maybe it is because of my health or being just too busy, I got out of the habit of writing down things that bring me joy and that I am thankful for. And looking back, I see this has helped contribute to my feeling of malaise most of the year. My interviews about joy gave me some momentum, but I still neglected to pick up the pen.

Science supports the benefits of daily writing down things you are grateful for. Research indicates that it helps calm down your body by lowering the heart rate and contributes to overall relaxation. Directly related to my RA, studies have shown that it can help reduce the inflammation my body experiences. When expressing gratitude towards others, it helps strengthen our relationships, reducing loneliness and depression. On the same note, if we have experienced someone’s kindness, when we record it, we are more likely to engage in altruistic activities, passing on to others the kindness we have been given.

The actual act of writing is important, it shifts our energy from negative attention to positive attention. And although a person might find it hard to write down a few things at the beginning of this habit, as they continue, they will find it easier to record more positive things. This doesn’t mean things in their lives have changed. But what has changed is their observation skills, they are now looking towards more positive things.

I started this journey of gratefulness after reading the poetic prose of Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts. And because I have gotten sidetracked this past year, I am picking up the book again to reread this November. Ann records how her own journey on writing her gifts daily changed her life. She outlines how “Eucharisteo –thanksgiving—always precedes the miracle” in the Bible. She also states, “Our fall was, has always been, and always will be, that we aren’t satisfied in God and what He gives. We hunger for something more, something other.”

Despite my health concerns, I have had a good year. Terry and I were blessed to have a great visit to Wisconsin where we reconnected with friends and family. We started the year off with a little getaway and have spent a fair amount of time visiting our favorite little people in Rhode Island. We have found a new rhythm being empty nesters. We have a great Life Group in our church that is helping us to grow. And I could go on. If I had taken the time to record these moments of joy during the year, my malaise would have lifted earlier.

We are having our first frost tonight, and my supple soil will become hard and dry as the temperatures drop. The cosmos that bloomed in my yard will die, leaves turning black from the frigid frost. But my heart doesn’t have to remain this way throughout the winter. If I label my gifts, Ann states, “the soil of our hard lives open to the rain of grace and let joy penetrate our cracked and dry places”, life will grow and prosper. So, I start today labeling gifts, taking the time to refocus my attention. I hope this post encourages you to do so as well!

“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” Psalm 4:8

Trigger Warning: The first paragraph alludes to a sexual assault. If this isn’t the right time for you to read this, feel free to skip over.

Last night, I had a nightmare. The vivid details merged childhood events into the present day. My abuser crawled into my current bed, defiling the tranquility I have created in my room. He put his finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet. In my dream, I smelled his sweat mingled with Camel cigarettes and cheap beer just like I had as a child. His ominous eyes glared at me with the look I knew all too well. I knew what he was after. I felt my body trembling but somehow, I also knew that, unlike when I was a child, my cry for help would be heard. He started to lay on the bed, and I quavered out a cry for help. I don’t know what I sounded like to my husband, but in a few seconds, Terry’s arms around me awakened me from my nightmare. My abuser and his wretched smell faded, and I turned over, falling back into a peaceful sleep.

These nightmares come and go. I may go for long periods of times never dreaming about what happened over thirty-five years ago. Maybe because I am writing about it, or maybe for no reason at all, I then go a few months with nightmares occurring regularly. And then they dissipate. Terry has realized he doesn’t even need to say anything, but the simple comfort of his hand typically disturbs my nightmare enough to bring me back to peace. Occasionally, they may be more intense, and then he just softly speaks my name, and again, peace follows.

It’s Halloween time when most of the United States celebrates the spooky and scary. Yards are decorated with ghosts, zombies, and mummies. The timeless Charlie Brown classic, “The Great Pumpkin” is streaming on screens. Pumpkins are carved, fake spider webs are hung on porches, and candy is bought. Costumes are designed, kids are anxious for the sugar rush, and apples are dipped in caramel. Many churches try to minimize the spooky and promote safety by hosting “Trunk-n-Treat” events. When my children were younger, our church had an alternative Fall Fest, where we had games, candy, and costumes. I do not want to engage in debate for pros and cons about Halloween in this post. My reason for writing about this is more about the season and what it entails.

Fear has monetary value because it entertains people. It is evident in the sales of Stephen King novels, one of the more prolific horror writers. Slasher movies have multiple sequels and even historical towns like Gettysburg have ghost tours. I don’t like horror, but I do enjoy a good murder mystery or suspense thriller, when the writing creates an atmosphere that has your spine tingling with the “what ifs”. I am currently immersed in Louise Penny’s “Three Pines” series with the thoughtful Inspector Gamache who peels back desires and motives, leading to the suspect.

Despite my childhood trauma, and my love for murder mysteries, I am not a fearful person. I am not afraid of the dark, don’t mind taking walks by myself, and don’t jump at loud noises. My biggest fear is related to animals: I am uncomfortable around them. But I am even learning to overcome that fear. Especially when my dear friend Elizabeth has five dogs who welcome me exuberantly whenever I enter her home!

On the other hand, I do have some healthy fears that drive me to make positive choices in my life. About five years ago, I feared my morbid obesity would lead to an early death. This inspired me to make healthy choices resulting in a significant weight loss. I have put back on some of the weight, but my desire to live a long life has motivated me to get back to being strong and healthy. I am back to making different choices that promote health, flexibility, and strength. Good health will enable me to create more memories with my family, especially my grandchildren.

I have a healthy fear of unforgiveness. I have seen in others how lifelong grudges embitter a person. In my own life, I have seen how holding onto offenses and letting them build up causes me to waste energy and time rehashing the scenario play by play over and over in my mind. It also leads me to gossip or malign a person’s character. And looking in the mirror, I don’t like the person I see. I pursue forgiveness again and again because I am not a saint. It forces me to bring my pain and rejection to God, the only one who can help me work through those emotions. This doesn’t mean an automatic restoration of relationships with those who have caused me pain. Restoration is a two-way street based on repentance and forgiveness. But it does free me from the weight of the offense.

On the flip-side, I am fearful of being too judgmental. Healthy judgment is important; a parent needs to correct a child who is making poor decisions. As an adult, we need to exercise good judgment regarding who we trust. But judgment becomes an overreach when we make uninformed assumptions about someone’s motives and choices. Instead, I choose to listen with open ears, hearing someone’s story about their time in prison or someone else’s addiction. This listening leads to more compassion. I also recognize that God’s forgiveness and promises are not just for me, but for the homeless person on the streets, the addict in my neighborhood, and for those who are imprisoned. The Bible is clear: how I judge others is how I will be judged. If I want God to show me mercy, then I need to show mercy to others. This mercy begins with open ears, an open mind, and an open heart.

I fear being prideful. I am an imperfect human who desperately needs Jesus. I can say unkind things, make poor decisions, and sometimes hurt other people’s feelings. I can also be selfish and self-serving. At these moments, I remind myself that I am insufficient, but I know a God who is all-sufficient. This simple truth helps me be humble enough to admit when I am wrong and when I come up short. I see this evident in my relationship with my adult children. I was a good mom, but I was far from perfect. Occasionally, they will bring up their experiences as a child in my home. Most of it is good, but sometimes I missed some important things that resulted in pain for them. I try not to defend my decisions but acknowledge their feelings and apologize. It’s hard, but even as adults, my children don’t need a perfect mom. They need a mom who is humble enough to acknowledge her mistakes and work on building a stronger relationship.

Finally, I have a healthy fear of God. For many years, this fear was unhealthy. I felt like the gopher in “Whack-A-Mole” waiting to be pounded for any slight mistake. That fear led me into a cyclical relationship of trying to please Him and always feeling like I fell short. I have exchanged that unhealthy fear for a fear based on knowing He is sovereign and in control. It’s more a sense of awe and respect. It motivates me to know Him more, and to accept His will. It’s also trusting that His way is always good. I no longer feel like God is looking for me to pop out of my hole so He can pound me. Instead, I believe He is there to comfort and support me.

Despite what happens in my nightmares, I no longer live in fear of my abuser. I no longer allow the fear I lived in as a child to control me. But I can choose to have healthy fears. These fears don’t limit me or cause me to tremble, instead they move me to action to live my life more fully in Christ.

“Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” Hebrews 12:14

It’s October, one of my favorite months. The bright sun magnifies the red, orange, and yellow leaves, painting the warm hues across the landscape. The days may be warm, but the temperatures drop in the evenings, making cozy sweatshirts, bonfires, and hot apple cider perfect ways to end the day. It seems the perfect time to read an Edgar Allen Poe story with a plush throw puddled in your lap. Pumpkins of all sizes, shapes, and colors accent doors and porches, while pumpkin spice infiltrates coffee, pies, and pancakes. October quotes abound including a new favorite of mine by writer John Nichols, “October is a hallelujah! Reverberating in my body year-round.”

But while some celebrate, there are also the naysayers who hate October or some elements of what the month signifies. Though many embrace pumpkin spice and everything nice, there is a large contingent of people who hate that flavor and share memes expressing their disgust. There are others who see Fall as a sign of the world dying and get either depressed or angry as the days get shorter. And probably the most contentious symbol of fall is the sugary confection, candy corn.

I love candy corn! I am not going to try to sell you on its flavor as it has little beyond the sweetness of candied sugar with a touch of vanilla and a hint of marshmallow. But this kernel-shaped candy lures me in every year. It is nostalgic for me, a candy that appeared in teacher’s bowls or parties during the month of October. And I am particularly partial to the corn shape, always rejecting the exact same candy in the shape of pumpkins. Despite its abundance on store shelves, many people despise it. But I am not alone; 35 million pounds of candy corn are sold every year, making me not as much of an outlier as one might think.

After some internet research, I found some interesting facts about candy corn. Along with Hershey, Peeps, and Reese’s, candy corn was first created in Pennsylvania where I live. In the 1880’s, farmers made up half of the American workforce. Candy companies decided to form candy in the shape of turnips, pumpkins, and corn to appeal to farmer’s children. Corn was not a vegetable many Americans ate, instead it was considered chicken feed. But the iconic tri-color candy caught on and became known as “chicken feed candy.” Before automation, it required people to work together to pour the syrup into the molds. And, until it was heavily marketed for Halloween in the 1950s, children snacked on it all year round.

Another candy that gets a lot of love during the month of October is Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. In the shape of ghosts or pumpkins, shelves are filled with this iconic American candy waiting to be handed out at doors to trick-or-treaters. Despite serious peanut allergies, it still finds itself in the number one or two spot in sales. It’s often considered everyone’s favorite, except for me. I am not allergic to peanut butter, and often will eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my lunch. Granted, I upscale it with all-natural peanut butter and my own homemade freezer jam. I am not opposed to all chocolate and peanut butter combinations, loving energy bites and the occasional chocolate ice cream sundae with peanut butter topping. But I have never liked Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Based on the famous commercials, as a child I was enticed to take a Hershey bar and dip it into peanut butter, hoping to have a look of ecstasy cross my face like I had seen on TV. Instead, I found the combination lackluster. When I mention my dislike of Reese’s, gasps follow along with questions about my taste buds and my sanity. I just shrug and think this may not be the wisest time to mention my love for candy corn.

I recently saw a tea towel that made me laugh. The tea towel has nine pieces of candy corn with a word written on most of them. The words combine to form the sentence “You don’t have to be everyone’s favorite.” At first, I thought, I no longer need to convince everyone that candy corn is good, nor do I have to defend my choice to buy a bag of candy corn. But the more I thought about the statement, the deeper this simple truth resonated with me.

Like candy corn, I don’t have to be everyone’s favorite. And more importantly, I don’t have to compromise my boundaries or beliefs to stay in everyone’s good graces. For many years, I found myself trying to appease others and “fix” situations so that I would not be seen as offensive or difficult. In other words, I spent a lot of time pleasing others. I didn’t know how to express anger well or set healthy boundaries that protected me. And often I found myself becoming smaller, spending more energy pressing myself into a mold that I did not fit.

In the last two years, I have been learning to set healthier boundaries. I am learning that saying “no” is okay. I am learning to address times when I feel I have been treated unfairly or unkindly. I am learning to express anger in a healthy manner and am choosing not to grab the extinguisher every time a fire flares up in a relationship. And the weight of trying to manage other people’s emotions so they would like me has been lifted, giving me a sense of freedom I have never felt before.

A few months ago, I woke up to a series of texts alerting me to a post someone made on my social media. The post sarcastically maligned my character. This resulted in some drama, with those who love me standing up for me. My instinct was to ignore the incident, recognizing that hurt people try to hurt others. Instead, I opened a conversation with the person, who responded with an unwillingness to talk and more accusations. At this point, I would have cowered and made every effort to appease and apologize for something that I hadn’t even done. In the past, I was desperate to stay in their good graces by taking responsibility for something that wasn’t my fault. But three other people who love me well reminded me that I didn’t deserve to be treated like this. And that I should stand up for myself. I closed the conversation and moved on. I pray that, someday, we can come to some sort of closure. But this problem isn’t mine to fix.

I don’t have to convince everyone to like candy corn, or why my dislike of peanut butter cups is valid. I also don’t have to convince everyone to like me by changing who I am or taking responsibility for things that I don’t need to own. But this requires me to sit in a space where things can be uncomfortable, where I don’t respond to every text, and where I don’t have to fix everything. It requires me to pause, pray, and ask for God’s guidance. It’s finding the balance of being a Christian with pursing peace, long-suffering, and kindness in conjunction with the recognition not everyone is going to like me. And while it’s hard, it is also okay to not be everyone’s favorite.

“And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works.” Hebrews 10:24

I spent almost two weeks with my son and his family, celebrating Eva’s first birthday and creating memories. As I observed Ethan’s and Rachel’s parenting, I was struck once again with the fine balance parents must manage between a toddler’s budding sense of independence and their safety. All week, I heard from a persistent three-year-old, “I can sit in a big chair to eat my lunch, I can drink with the Peter Rabbit cup (the one with no lid), I can push a vacuum cleaner, I can scramble the eggs, I can hold the mixer all by myself….” Joel is determined to do the same things adults do but doesn’t quite understand his own limits. Yet, his parents patiently give him enough room to grow while keeping him safe. And this fine balance will continue to tip in his favor as he grows and develops.

Being independent is a sign of maturity, but we often ignore the fact that recognizing your limits amid independence is a stronger indicator of maturity. This sign of maturity manifests itself in the Christian life as well. We must develop our own walk with God marked with good habits and personal discipline while balancing that with being a part of a body of believers that helps us grow and develop. This principle of community is echoed throughout the Bible. God divided Israel into twelve tribes, so that they could function in small groups and still come together as a whole. Jesus called twelve disciples, not one person, to carry out the Great Commission. And these small group of disciples along with a few other apostles started small churches throughout the Middle East and beyond, who helped spread the gospel.

A few weeks ago, I once again experienced how a body of believers comes together to bless their community. A group of us came up with a vision to celebrate our children in a service. We invited a special speaker, Pastor Greg Marshall, who is gifted in ministry for both adults and children. We then came up with a few other ideas, including a puppet show, children leading worship, a skit, and ice cream sundaes to follow. What happened in the next few months was a beautiful example of everyone coming together to use their giftings to bring this service to fruition.

I am a “creative”, but I work best when collaborating with other creatives. I have no idea how to create promotional materials, I cannot sing, and I have never been a puppeteer. These limitations along with a finite amount of time put limits on what I can personally contribute to an event like our children’s rally. This is where others came to fill in the gaps, making a simple idea a richer vision. Promotional materials, working regularly with children in leading worship, a group of young people developing their acting talents in a skit, and spending hours decorating our foyer with whimsical clouds and balloon arches all contributed to making this event a success.

But collaboration works best with three key principles: humility, freedom, and ability to change. My friend Liane, who handles promotional materials, came up with a more concisely worded theme. She was hesitant to suggest it, not having much experience working with me before. But her theme was better, and I have learned not to hold anything too precious. When we are easily offended by other suggestions or hold too tightly to our own ideas, we lose out on valuable input. This input can find potential pitfalls with our ideas and/or help us clarify our vision. This is where humility comes in, recognizing that your ideas are not perfect, but that collaborating with others will help make the ideas stronger.

We must also be careful not to micromanage when we lead. Leading results in freedom and growth, while micromanaging produces frustration and bondage. I asked two young women to decorate the foyer for the event. Brittany and Lexi were both featured in my Discovering Joy series and have a proven record of creativity and design esthetic. They sent me pictures of their ideas and made the foyer an absolutely magical place for children. It was beyond what I had dreamed, and it created an atmosphere for children to feel special. Another woman, Karen, volunteered to put together some of the toppings for the ice cream sundaes. I would never have thought of gummy bears as a topping, but her intuition and experience with children were spot on. These confections were by far the favorites among the children I interacted with. I saw gummy bears on every child’s sundae!

Finally, we need to be willing to change. We had been practicing a skit for a couple of weeks, a modern-day version of Lot and Abraham deciding on which land to raise their flocks. It was filled with cowboy accents, Lamb-Fil-A, and triple espressos with goat milk. One of our leading actors, who carried out his role with humor, had a medical emergency two days before the event. We could have dropped the skit, but that would have minimized all the work everyone had put into the acting and props. We found someone else to fill in, who added his own sense of humor with ad libbed lines. He was willing to pivot with his own plans and fill in for us. The skit went on without a hitch, despite missing our original cast member.

Humility, freedom, and the ability to change, along with an incredible group of people who used their giftings, made this event a success. And once again, I was in awe of what had transpired from a simple idea. Time and time again, I have seen this recipe produce anointed events that minister to people. Peter reminds fellow believers in 1 Peter 4:10, “God has given each of you a gift from his great variety of spiritual gifts. Use them well to serve one another.” Joel is learning to be independent, but I pray that he learns to be in a community of believers where they serve one another with their individual gifts.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and discipline.” Proverbs 1:7

Apple paper plates with name tags and a toy school bus centerpiece, Elmer’s glue and penmanship paper graced my daughter-in-love’s table for Joel’s first day of preschool at home. In the last few weeks, Joel, like most students across the country, has started his formal education. He’s eager to learn, informing his local librarian with pride that he was starting preschool as he picked up the books his mom had reserved. He can’t wait to learn how to use scissors, write his letters, and explore the characteristics of different forest animals.

There is something about the first day of school that I have always loved. With a fresh box of perfectly tipped crayons, blank notebooks, and crisp folders, I looked forward to packing my backpack and starting school. This carried on to college, when I purchased my books from the bookstore, and couldn’t wait to receive my syllabus to see what I was going to learn. It continued as a home educator when the process of picking curriculum, creating a schedule, and embarking on a new learning adventure with my own children sparked joy in my life. Like Meg Ryan’s character in You’ve Got Mail, I would have been pleased to receive a “bouquet of newly sharpened pencils” from a person who loved school supplies as much as I did.

Today, I no longer buy school supplies, or wait for UPS to deliver curriculum. I only purchase new crayons for my Sunday School class or my grandchildren. But the first day of school pictures on Instagram and the school supply section at Target still make September a new beginning. For me, it’s a time to reflect on being a lifelong learner. Just like Joel, I am excited to learn new ideas, thoughts, and perceptions. Even though I may not be in a classroom, I still want to grow as a Christian and broaden my horizons.

Being a lifelong learner requires intentionality. Just like parents and students prepare for the new school year, I need to prioritize learning new ideas and gaining new perspectives. I need to evaluate my sources and have a balanced approach to where I get news and information. I must recognize that if all my information is coming from an echo chamber, I may not be getting an accurate perception. And most importantly, I need to actively study the Bible, not just read it.

In the last few years, I have approached my personal Bible study differently. I am currently taking the time to slowly read scripture, and look up meanings of words, customs, and culture to get a deeper understanding of what is written and why. I also am paraphrasing my thoughts about what individual portions of scripture are telling me about God. Finally, through podcasts like BEMA Discipleship, I am getting a deeper understanding of the Hebrew perspective and how it influenced the stories written in the Bible. It’s amazing to find out how my western point of view has misinformed my perception of characters, stories, and principles.

For years, I was a talk radio addict, listening to various conservative thinkers pontificating on major news and issues. It shaped how I viewed current events, voted for political leaders, and interpreted history. This echo chamber was supported further with some of the Christian voices I was listening to both in the homeschooling circle and on the radio. I became indoctrinated and rarely listened to anything that was contrary to these thinkers.

And life continued, until the 2016 election, #Metoo movement, immigration, and building the wall battles, followed by the pandemic and later racial upheaval due to police brutality. My typical news sources no longer seemed balanced with the reality of video footage of police brutality, patients dying in hospitals, and stories of immigrant detainees. I soon became disillusioned with news and began wondering what God had to say about the world around me.

While reading the Bible, the words of the Jewish and Christianity admonishments to care for the “widow, fatherless and foreigner” began to be illuminated across the Bible. Deuteronomy alone mentions this population eleven times with very specific expectations on how the community was to care for them. The care for these marginalized segments of the population were a mark of what made those who believed in God different. Jesus, both in actions and deeds, demonstrated how we should care for marginalized people. He elevated women and other outsiders by including them in His inner circle. He preached that those who will inherit the kingdom of God are the ones who took care of strangers by clothing them and taking them in.

With these scriptures in mind, I began to seek sources that aligned with these principles. I found several podcasts that were asking hard questions about Christianity in relation to the news and issues. Two, The Bulletin and The Russell Moore Show are produced by Christianity Today. Both address current events like how to handle AI technology and what does the Barbie movie say about women and men. Instead of eliciting an emotive response, they tend to feature reporters and thinkers across genres who articulate well thought out answers. I also have found Confronting Christianity with Rebecca McLaughlin thought provoking as well. She, along with the previous co-host Kyle Worley, address issues like gender identity, human rights issues, and race in the context of Christianity. None of these podcasts are watering down scripture, instead they are more fully expressing the gospel in relation to these issues.

Finally, I am actively reading books that address some of the hard issues. I found books like She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story that Helped Ignite a Movement by Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey, Solito by Javier Zamora, and I Take My Coffee Black: Reflections on Tupac, Musical Theater, Faith, and Being Black in America by Tyler Merrit give perspectives that make me pause and think before forming an opinion. Whether its sexual harassment, immigration, or race, these are complicated issues rooted in historical context that cannot be whitewashed by patriotic sentiments. They need to be confronted and addressed if change is going to happen.

About seven years ago, I got my first set of bifocal glasses. It was amazing how quickly my eyes adapted to the two different prescriptions on my lenses. I no longer had to move my glasses to read a text from my husband or strain to read a book in bed. Everything seemed crisper and clearer. I could see both far and near. In many ways, I think these last few years I have gotten a new set of lenses regarding my Christian worldview. It’s become wider and more comprehensive. I have learned to recognize that I didn’t see things as clearly as I thought and that being a Christian is about compassionate, not angry tweets. In no way do I think I have all the answers; it’s a constant balancing of act of learning and integrating while resting on a Christian foundation. And I agree with the words of Rebecca McLaughlin in her book Confronting Christianity, “Like paleontologists sifting through the dirt, we must excavate what the Bible actually says while dusting off the cultural dross.”

“Don’t let anyone despise your youth,” 1 Timothy 4:11

This is a breaking announcement accompanied by a drumroll, confetti, and fireworks! I have discovered the elusive Fountain of Youth! Yes, I repeat, I have discovered the Fountain of Youth! No, it wasn’t found on a pilgrimage to Florida. And it wasn’t found in a new anti-aging product that I am trying to influence you to buy, nor is it found in an exercise routine or healthy eating plan. Instead, it is found by cultivating joy in your life through embracing the wisdom of older generations juxtaposed with choosing to be inspired by younger generations.

I have spent the last four weeks sharing insights on discovering joy through my interviews with Cheryl, Michele, Barb, and Nancy. These women are aging gracefully because they activate joy in their lives despite suffering, disappointment, and loss. Today, I am going to explore how being inspired by a younger generation keeps me energized with joy.

I am highlighting three women, Lexi Holmgren, Brittany Epler, and Lexi Peterson, who are still in their early to mid-twenties. This list could have been so much longer because this age group is filled with thoughtful and innovative women reflecting the image of God through their creative pursuits. And they do this with joy that is seen both in person and in how they portray themselves in social media.

It was the last day of our whirlwind vacation in Wisconsin. We were gathering at Lexi and Caleb Holmgren’s apartment for our last night of fellowship and Midwest-style pizza. Tired, I walked into Lexi’s apartment, exhaling a sigh of contentment upon entering. With warm lighting and comfortable furniture, her apartment reflected an ambience that made me feel enveloped in a cozy hug. It was easy to see Lexi had curated her space for the purpose of hospitality, which I later learned had been modeled for her by her mother. As I continued a tour of her home, I spied a shelf where Lexi displayed her future aspirations in the form of serving dishes and linens related to food photography.

Lexi has been married to “the best husband ever”, Caleb, for four years, where they together lead worship and the youth for their church. For years, I have seen her beaming smile in pictures with her friends and family. But recently, she has become the smile behind the camera by starting a photography business. Lexi was given a camera when she was fifteen years old, and played around with it a little bit, but it was soon forgotten. Then Covid hit, and being an extrovert, Lexi dealt with quarantine boredom by learning how to use the manual mode on her camera. After many YouTube videos, and a lot of practice, she began photography as a side hustle.

Later, Lexi was offered the opportunity to take pictures of food for the wellness company she was working for as a graphic designer. The company also paid for her to study under a food photography mentor, where she continued to improve her skills. She loved the story arc of creating a theme using food, linens, and décor. She has decided to pursue this as a future career, taking some business and food photography courses online. Lexi dreams of shooting a cookbook in the future.

Lexi’s vocal tone lifted with joy as she shared her future aspirations. Joy, for Lexi, doesn’t align itself with the Google definition of “great pleasure or happiness”. As a Christian, she recognizes that happiness is temporary, based on circumstances. Instead, she believes that “Biblical joy is choosing to respond to circumstances with inner contentment because God will use these experiences to accomplish His perfect will” in her life. And it is evident when, during boredom and confinement, she chose to invest her time in a talent that she didn’t realize she had. As in the verse that most speaks about joy in her life, Lexi used the mourning of time not spent with friends to allow her fingers to dance across the buttons on a camera, because she believes “You have turned my mourning into dancing.”

Like Lexi Holmgren, Brittany Epler is married to her best friend, Kory, celebrating four years this coming November. Brittany proclaims with passion that she “loves serving Jesus”, spending time with her dog, Tucker, kayaking, and planning her next adventure. Brittany entered my life a few years ago when she was one of my daughter’s bridesmaids. I quickly adopted her into my family, loving her sense of humor and whimsy.  Brittany also has a design aesthetic that I find comfortable and cozy. She believes less is more, except when it comes to plants. A few years ago, Brittany started out with her undiscovered green thumb by taking care of cacti. Soon, she started adding small house plants, graduating to bigger plants, officially losing track of how many she has. She finds taking care of plants peaceful and calming.

At Maggie’s bridal shower, I delegated to her bridesmaids to accomplish my vision of a panini charcuterie. Brittany quickly took the lead, turning my vision into an art form by creating roses from salami and ham.  After that, she started using Pinterest to google all the different ways to cut cheese, and soon found herself creating theme boards for people. She loves people’s faces filled with joy when they look at her creations.

Brittany longed to express herself artistically and God, faithful as always, brought out her artistry with houseplants and charcuterie, along with dabbling in floral design and watercolor, at the perfect time. These artistic endeavors have provided some therapeutic outlets and escapes through some challenging circumstances. God’s gift of helping Brittany discover her talents aligns with her definition of joy. She believes that “joy is calmness and peace in your heart no matter what circumstances looks like.” It also is her strength from God, supported in scripture in Nehemiah 8:11. And most importantly, it is God using creative outlets to keep Brittany focused on joy when she needs it most.

Of the three younger women, I have known Lexi Peterson the longest and I am surprised at how her curiosity and creativity continue to evolve. Originally from Colorado, she currently lives in Pennsylvania and works as a dairy hand milking cows. She loves baking, playing volleyball, and taking care of plants. On Sundays, Lexi walks into church in a dress that is both feminine and distinct. She would not describe herself as a “fashionista”, but is intentional in expressing herself through her clothing, whether at church or browsing a bookstore. She is not trying to make a fashion statement but enjoys the art of putting together an outfit that represents her authentically.

This authenticity is not only expressed in her clothing, but in her worship. Lexi leads Silent Witness, a group where she choreographs ASL sign and artistic interpretation movements set to music for the purpose of worship. With a whole-body expression of worship, she connects to God without inhibition. She, along with her group, inspires those watching to worship as well. With the same intensity, Lexi creates beautiful desserts, tablescapes with flowers, and has recently discovered cooking Indian food. She continues to want to “broaden her horizons and explore different things.”

For Lexi, joy is a combination of being content, expressing gratefulness, and having peace. Joy is found in the promises of God in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think towards you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” She is confident that God wants what is best for her, has her where she is now, and knows where she will be in the future. For her, this joy expresses itself in both the quiet knowing of being in nature and working with animals and in the overwhelming feeling of joy when listening to a piece of music that brings hope.

These three incredible young women have been influenced by their mothers, and other women who encourage the development of their talents. And they believe that the older generation is important in their lives. Lexi H believes her generation is “bold, passionate, driven, and independent”, but they still need the genuine relationships with older women without judgement. She has a monthly coffee date with an older woman who listens to her concerns and offers kind words of wisdom sprinkled with love. Brittany wants older women to believe in her generation and trust them. She cautions us not to put them into a box, remember they are individuals who might approach life differently. Lexi P wants connections with the older generation to be authentic. She doesn’t need a mentor to be the perfect wise counsel, she just needs them to be genuine for her to be open about her own struggles.

All three have well developed thoughts and clarity about what joy is and how it expresses itself in their lives. They all express joy through a design esthetic that is authentic, comfortable, and inviting. They purse their creative interests with abandon, believing that God is for them. They lead busy lives but still find time for individual moments of joy. And all three of them express joy in their own unique ways. For Lexi H, “late night snuggles with Caleb, hugs from her nephews, and seeing students thrive in her youth group” are just a few of her abundant joys. Watching puppies living in the moment and beautiful sunrises that embody both a moment of reflection and anticipation bring joy to Lexi P. Brittany summed up joy as a gift from God that she can open each morning. It may be reading the word of God or going kayaking, and she believes that “Jesus makes it so easy to choose joy.”

In these last five weeks, I have discovered joy in many different expressions. I have been inspired by all the women, young and old, who have contributed to my project. Joy is contagious, life-giving, and helps me age gracefully.