In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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Season of Lights


The season of lights and anticipation is on its way. I’m trying not to rush headlong into it, but am appreciating its topping the horizon. As I breathe slowly in and out, I recall the words Pastor Jonathan repeated last week: the words of Jesus: Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden. I will give you rest.

Oh how I need that rest. I weave back and forth between labor and laden these days. You?

I am praying for space in my heart and mind for a true Advent. Real anticipation. 

A festive and full and generous season—melding Thanksgiving, the day and celebration, with the gratitude, peace, and remembering I want the rest of this year to taste of. And then, entering full into the joy of His coming, His incarnation. The start of His life here on earth. I want to take Pastor Nick’s recommendation, and enter into the original meaning of the twelve days of Christmas. A joyous, spread-out, feasting celebration to culminate this anticipation. Holding the best for these days, so that our jubilation that our Christ did actually come in the flesh, is evident and glorious. For our own soul’s nourishment and hope, and for the sharp meaning in our feast-days declared to the world surrounding.


And a joyous clatter to start our new year, with the truth, realness, poignancy, and outright celebration that should indeed mark our days and years as God’s people.

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