I’ve been pondering this “Beauty of Winter” topic for weeks. What’s there to write about? I’ve wondered. We don’t have snow here in Georgia, except for a rare ice storm maybe once every couple of years. Then our schools close, and we send our kids out to play in an inch of quickly melting snow flurries.

In fact, it irked me all last month when I kept having to hear “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” and “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” over and over on the radio; we never have “treetops glistening and children listening to hear sleighbells in the snow” around here.

A few years ago, my husband took a research position at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Now there was a beautiful winter! We rented an old Victorian house in the downtown area, and a white blanket of snow covered the ground for weeks at a time. My neighbors loaned us a sleigh, and I spent many happy hours pulling my toddler-age son around our backyard.

Since I had few friends, I kept myself occupied by exploring for hours every day in this British-built dreamland. It was about 20 blocks from our house to the city library, and beyond that, only a few more blocks to the icy Atlantic sea. I loaded up my double stroller with my son and infant daughter, and we were off. Watching grand ships dock into a snowy harbor — now that was beauty!

But God has been speaking to my heart lately about seeking Him first to discover the quiet treasures of joy. Maybe it’s these writing carnivals; maybe it’s blogging. I don’t know! But I’m on a mission to dig deeper into what matters most in life — and to uncover and share it.

Last week, as I walked alone to our mailbox — the same old hum-drum thing I do every day — I said a prayer. Lord, please help me find some joy today. Forgive me for complaining in my heart so much. I want to find something to praise you for today. I know — that seems like a shallow prayer. But after I prayed, I felt lighter inside.

We don’t have snow to rejoice in, but we have plenty of sun, and it seemed to spread its warmth on me at that moment. The air smelled a bit sweeter. I looked over and noticed my neighbor’s horses frolicking in the crisp wind.

And then I heard something. Could it be? No! But it was. I heard the sound of clippity-clopping horse hooves. And jingle bells. The sound of jingle bells! I stood spellbound, as an honest-to-goodness team of horses pulling a wooden cart came prancing down my street. Four men sat atop this cart and stopped in front of my mailbox while I admired their rig.

“You’ve got to come back!” I told them. “I’ve got a bunch of kids in my house. They’ve got to see this. I can’t believe it!”

“We’ll turn around and come back,” the driver told me. “You bring those kids down here, and we’ll give ’em a ride.”

So I did. And they did. They came back to my house and picked up my three older children and gave them the ride of their lives. All around our gravel driveway — twice! I can tell you, my heart was leaping! The sound of jingle bells, the clopping of horse hooves, and three kids bouncing along into the new year etching a happy memory into their hearts.

That was winter beauty for me. And I think God allowed me to see that only after I’d prayed. Because after they left, after it was over, I had nothing to do but stand there and praise Him. Thank you for horses, Lord! Thank you for children, thank you for jingle bells, thank you for sunny winters, thank you for JOY!

(by heather lynn ivester)

Here’s something I’d rather not reveal — but it’s the truth. I’m not a funny person. I’m rather boring, actually. If I ever say anything interesting or witty, it’s because I’m repeating something I read or heard from some person who really is witty or funny.

I can’t even tell a good joke without shortening it, forgetting the good parts and even…yes…forgetting the punch line! I end up saying, “Well, it was something like that” when the line falls flat and nobody laughs.

But I still like being around people who make me laugh. Through my insatiable reading habit, I can meet up with some pretty funny people. One is Sue Buchanan, who wrote one of my all-time favorite books, Duh-Votions. If you haven’t seen this book, it’s really a joy to read.

I had Sue’s book sitting on my desk a few months ago, and I was reading through it again. I thought to myself — I wish I could write funny like her! So, I starting typing out a couple of things that happened to me that could be told in a humorous way, and I sent them off to a couple of publishers.

The big shock for me came when I found out both stories were accepted! Somebody actually thought I was funny. One story will be in a book called Soul Matters For Mothers, which comes out in March from J. Countryman. Another of my attempts at humor writing will appear in the book, A Cup of Comfort for Expectant Mothers to be published by Adams Media this October.

So, maybe I’m onto something. What is it about Sue Buchanan that makes her so fun to read? For one thing, she LIVES a lot — meaning, she gets out and does things, goes places, talks to people — and maybe she takes a notebook with her because she fills up her stories with feel-like-you’re-there dialogue.

I’ve been getting a few tips from Tim Bete, who, according to his website, “is married with four children and has 19 combined years as a dad — 133 in dog years — which makes him an expert at answering the questions, ‘Are we there yet?’ ‘Why?’ and ‘What’s that smell?'”

As the current director of the University of Dayton’s Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, Tim is really great at writing funny. I reviewed his book, In the Beginning There Were No Diapers, a few weeks ago. Recently, I gleaned some good tips in his article, Word Play, in Writer’s Digest Magazine.

He introduces his six tips for writing humor with this lead-in:

But often writers spend more time on the order and structure of sentences than the individual words within sentences. When you’re writing a humor piece, don’t settle for an overall funny concept. By going back through the piece with a fine-tooth comb, and using these six tips to find the funniest words, you can turn a funny piece into a hilarious one.

Go read his article if you want to make your readers laugh!

I’ve been on Cloud 9 and 1/2 since a couple of weeks ago when I talked to two LOCAL friends who are also writers! They’re both moms who submit articles and essays to magazines — and they’re both interested in writing a book. So, of course I told them about Terry Whalin’s must-read, Book Proposals That Sell. Hey, and I found out that Stacy interviewed him recently in her Mind & Media blog.

Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll learn how to write a book that will make people laugh. And in the process, I might even get better at remembering those pesky punch lines.

It’s not too late to start a new devotional this year. Here’s a link to Elisabeth Elliot’s daily devotional, if you love her writing as much as I do.

I just got back from taking a sneak peak at Two Talent Living’s Carnival of Beauty today, and you’re in for a refreshing variety of ideas (including mine — of course!). The topic is “The Beauty of Limits.” As I go about my day, whenever I need a five-minute break, I’ll read one of these 12 essays sent in by women bloggers. (And I’ll probably have my timer ticking beside me — because here’s where I have trouble losing track of time!)

So far, nobody has taken me up on my offer to let me post your essay in my blog. If you’re not a blogger, don’t you want to share your views with others? Next week’s topic is “The Beauty of Winter.” Sallie’s deadline is Jan. 10th at 3 p.m. So, you’ve got a few days to think about this topic. What do you love about the season of winter? Is it what takes place outdoors? Describe what it’s like in your part of the world. Or do you enjoy what goes on inside your home? Tell us! I’d love to publish a collection of ideas here.

This is your English teacher assigning you an essay to write — due by midnight next Monday, Jan. 9. I think it would be so fun to see what winter is like in different parts of the world.

This week’s writing topic at The Carnival of Beauty is “The Beauty of Limits.” How can limits be something we describe as beautiful? A limit is defined as “something that bounds, strains, or confines.” This makes me think of a dog, tugging on a leash, straining to reach toward freedom.

Yet when I give this further thought, I’m led to scripture. I read in Psalm16:6, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance” (NIV). As a mom and manager of my home, I’m bound to accomplish all that God has called me to do within the 1440 minutes that are in a day. My roles are three: I’m a wife, a mother, and a person — me. My top priority is serving my Savior and glorifying Him through my life and words. But my roles also include loving and serving my family and others — and taking some time for myself. These are my boundaries, and how thankful I am that they fall in pleasant places.

What I struggle with most of all is the boundary of time. I try to squeeze way too much into a day, and I get frustrated because I can’t complete it all. So one of my goals for this new year is to change my attitude toward the limits of time. Last year, I saw the clock as my ticking enemy — always pushing me, pulling me, and taunting me with tasks that must be done. As soon as I got going to the point of satisfaction in one area, I’d check the time and have to scurry to the next event.

But this year, I want to see the boundaries of time as a blessing in order to keep me balanced. I’ve actually gone out and bought a new stainless steel timer, which has become my little companion I carry around from room to room. It’s ticking beside me at the computer, helping me to focus and stay on task. I set a time limit on how long I can allow myself to read or write — because I know I’ve got other priorities that must be taken care of.

These ticking bounds are beautiful to me when I see my life from God’s point of view. Work and play, serving others and taking time to be alone — my spirit will shrivel and die without a balance.

I hope someone reading this may be encouraged to try using a timer — and see how it works. I know I can’t be perfect in all that I do. But I feel freedom, even joy, within these pleasant boundaries. And at the end of the day, I can thank God for the beauty of the limits in which I thrive.

P.S. In case you’re interested, this blog post took me 40 minutes to write. I thought it would only take me 15! And if I didn’t have my timer, I would keep fiddling with these words. But I can’t! The ringer went off, so I must stop. Kind of reminds me of musical chairs — you can’t keep going when the music (ticking) stops.

Are you a nurse? Do you know anyone who is a nurse? Author Paula Sergi is putting together an inspirational book, and she’s looking for essays, prose pieces, and poems. The deadline is coming up soon — January 15, 2006.

I think this is a great idea. I’m sure all of us have been helped at some point in our lives by a caring nurse — how about during labor and delivery? I’ve been so blessed by good nurses that I’ve even written thank-you notes with pictures of the new baby they helped deliver.

So, be sure to pass this site along if you know anyone who might enjoy writing about the nursing profession. Here’s some information from Paula Sergi’s site:

“We are looking for nurses who:

— Continue to practice but considered leaving;
— Have left practice;
— Still identify as a nurse but have another calling in their lives.

Consider:

Who or what holds you in place as a nurse? Who or what influenced your decision to stay?
Who or what influenced your decision to leave practice?
What is the other calling that shapes your life? How does it intersect with your identity as a nurse?
As an oral culture, nurses told their stories to one another, but felt little urgency to document our history. But what is not preserved cannot beckon or inspire. When asked the reason for their career choice, students often respond with tales of nurses who impacted their lives or the lives of loved ones. They come to nursing drawn by the magnetic force of another. When we accept guidance from someone we admire, are we then not vested to pass it on? And if we do so with greater generosity, would that affect the nursing shortage?

Feel free to explore the guidelines in creative and innovative ways. The pieces we are looking for might be “inspirational” in effect; however this is not our intention. Our goal is a thoughtful collection which testifies to the complexity of the nursing profession and the myriad variables which determine our response to it.”

I’ve read through the entries from the Carnival of Beauty at Two Talent Living, and they’re all fantastic. But one really connected with me. I hope you’ll have a chance to read Today’s Song from the blog, Holy Experience. Here’s a mom who took her children to sing in a hospital’s “Faith Service for the elderly.” Ann writes:

In a room ringed with wheelchairs, the children and I were encircled — embraced — with age and years and lives lived. And now the elderly pressed close to us, to reach out and touch the times now past, and the youngsters, and the youthful beginning of Life’s journey.

She describes an experience, then she continues her beautiful prose:

So, for the here and now, bring on the diapers and the laundry and the noise and the toy-strewn rooms! Let my conversations be interrupted, my nights sleepless, and my dishes endless!

For, these ARE the days — the preciously fleeting days. These are the days of sleeping (momentarily) swaddled babies, of supersonic toddlers unfurling toilet paper rolls, of boys and torn-out knees and riotous trampolines.

And in the blink of any eye, I will be whispering, like Job — “Oh, for the days when my children were around me.” ~Job 29:4

Don’t read it here — go read it in Ann’s Holy Experience blog. She’s given me a glimpse of such timeless beauty and joy, all I can say is “Wow.”

This is a quiet week for many of us. I’m one who likes to leave out our tree and decorations a few days after Christmas. I can at last enjoy the beauty and peace of the season, knowing that all our gifts have been wrapped, unwrapped, and given! We’ve been so busy, and now we have a few days to relax at home.

What will you be doing this week? If I were alone, I’d curl up with several new books I received that I can’t wait to read! I’m so appreciative of family members who spent their valuable time browsing new and used bookstores, looking for treasures. And I have several: a new cookbook full of inspiring photographs, poetry and essays on motherhood, a lavish book of watercolor portraits of children and kittens, and a new Bible.

My new Bible is Eugene Peterson’s “The Message” version. I told the person who gave it to me, “You must have read my mind — really!!” I’ve never read the whole of this version before, yet I often pull quotes from it because Eugene Peterson brings me a fresh view of scripture. Last week, Mind & Media sent me Timothy Smith’s new book, Connecting With Your Kids, and the author sprinkled quotes from the Message version throughout his book.

I’ll be reviewing Connecting With Your Kids very shortly because I have to say that I flew through it and could hardly put it down. And because of that book, I’m going to be making a more deliberate effort to spend quality time with my family this coming year — books and computer aside.

How about you? Are you starting to make plans for 2006? We only have three days left — then out with the old, in with the new. If you can find a minute, try to write down in a journal some things you’re thankful for this year — even if it hasn’t been a great year. The process of writing down your thoughts will often turn your views heavenward.

I read Psalm 143 in the New Living Translation on Christmas Eve, and I absolutely couldn’t believe it — David was writing exactly what was on my mind — so I copied the whole chapter into my journal. There are always surprises like that when you read the Bible every day. God has a chance to whisper to your soul.

I’m off to the Carnival at Two Talent Living — today’s topic is “The Beauty of Excellence.” Sallie collected 14 posts sent in by bloggers, who tried to choose one of their favorites. I’m looking forward to being introduced to some new writers that I’ll bookmark and return to in the year ahead.

If you’ve entered my blog today, the Wednesday before Christmas, then I’ve got a real treat for you. And it’s not here! There’s a party going on right now over at Two Talent Living’s Carnival of Beauty — and you’re invited. Sallie’s topic this week, “The Beauty of Tradition” elicited responses from 15 lady bloggers — and I have been blessed from head to toe reading some of these.

And here’s something I’ve already learned. From Iris at her “Sting My Heart” blog, she wrote a beautiful submission for the carnival, as well as another on celebrating Weihnachten in Germany. She did some research on the origins of Santa and sent me to this article, Saint Nicholas and the Origin of Santa Claus, where I read something I’d never heard:

But it was in the 1930s that the now-familiar American Santa image solidified. Haddon Sundblom began thirty-five years of Coca-Cola Santa advertisements which finally established Santa as an icon of contemporary commercial culture. This Santa was life-sized, jolly, and wearing the now familiar red suit. He appeared in magazines, on billboards, and shop counters encouraging Americans to see Coke as the solution to “a thirst for all seasons.” By the 1950s Santa was turning up everywhere as a benign source of beneficence. This commercial success has led to the North American Santa Claus being exported around the world where he threatens to overcome the European St. Nicholas, who has retained his identity as a Christian bishop and saint.

Another site says this is an urban legend — but still — it’s given me something to ponder.

What can I write about “The Beauty of Tradition?” The first thing that comes to mind is the song, Blest Be the Tie That Binds that I sang every Sunday all through my childhood:

Blest be the tie that binds
our hearts in Christian love;
the fellowship of kindred minds
is like to that above.

The tie that binds our hearts throughout the Christmas season is tradition. We celebrate in certain ways during our growing-up years, and then as adults we try to continue these traditions or start something different. For many of us, marriage presents a new challenge, as we blend our own memories and customs with those of our spouse.

It’s easy for some couples to do this, but for others it can cause stress and anxiety, to say the least. The most important thing we can do is to pray and seek God’s will for our own family. This may involve letting go of some activities and clearing the way for new ones.

I’ve blogged about Christmas traditions in several of my posts this month: how we celebrate Advent using a calendar, “Adorenaments,” and daily readings — but I’ve been surprised that the most frequently viewed post of mine has been the family Christmas newsletter. It’s been interesting to see what key words people type in to end up at that post. I have to thank my dad for that — his annual newsletter is a tradition that’s deeply ingrained within me. Some people are annoyed by them; I’m thrilled to read other people’s news.

In our home, one tradition we’ve given serious consideration is what to teach our children about Santa Claus. On Christmas mornings of our respective childhoods, we both woke up to a vast sea of toys! We’d count the minutes until 7 am, then run to the den with our siblings and bask in the thrill of everything our hearts desired. Santa had come!

That’s the way it was in most homes in the 70s. Everybody celebrated Santa. We sang “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and left out plates of cookies and milk. It was fun! It was our American tradition!

But something happened to our hearts when our oldest son was not quite four years old. That Christmas, he started asking us detailed questions. “Daddy, is Santa Claus real? How does he come down the chimney? Can robbers come in our house that way too? How does he get to everybody’s house in one night? How does he know what I want?” And then the clincher, “Daddy, is Jesus real?”

Our hearts froze. We’d always been extremely honest with our intelligent little boy. As a scientist, my husband could actually answer our son’s questions about why the sky was blue and how plants grew. But here — we began to feel convicted in our hearts that we were not being truthful to our son if we told him Jesus was real, and Santa was too.

Now I’m not judging anyone by what they choose to celebrate — you do what you feel is best for your family! But with our children, we don’t make a big deal of it — and when they ask, we say that Santa is a wonderful story, just like Cinderella and Treasure Island — but the story of the birth of Jesus is the only true story. We tell them that Santa is a fun game that people play, and let’s don’t spoil it for other children who play this game. (And we do read them the story of the real St. Nicholas.)

I remember the first year we experienced Christmas when we had two toddlers — as they opened their gifts, they’d run over and put their arms around our necks and say, “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Mama!” But if the gifts had been from “Santa,” who would they have thanked? And what do you say to children who don’t get everything on their lists? Those tiny white lies must continue: Sorry, Santa had to pick only a few toys for each child. In our case, we’ve always lived on one income — and for many years, in graduate school — so the answer is, “Daddy works very hard for the money to buy you those presents.”

So — that’s how we started a different tradition with our children. I’d love to hear back from you whether you agree or disagree with me. I’m always seeking to improve the atmosphere of our home and to keep the focus on the birth of Christ. Last night at dinner, we were thinking of some new things we’d like to do this year as a family…so I’ll be browsing through Two Talent Living this week for good ideas!

What’s most important is that the ties of tradition bind us closer to the hearts of each other and to Christ, as we celebrate the joy of His birth. May He fill your homes with love this Christmas!

This is my first piece written for Sallie’s Carnival of Beauty at Two Talent Living — if she’ll allow me to participate. I’m so thrilled to discover another soul out there who loves inspiring others to write. I feel like a student who’s been assigned an essay by a teacher. But since I don’t have to worry about red ink or grades, writing an essay is FUN! Our topic this week is “The Beauty of Giving.”

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about a man who owns a convenience store near my house — he always exhibits a cheerful attitude, despite having to put in 16-hour days, with no vacation. He said his schedule now is actually much easier than it used to be — since he’s no longer working 22 hours a day. He used to work day shift at one job and night shift at another. He kept up this manic schedule for 12 years so he could save up money to buy the store.

He worked those unbelievably long hours in order to support his family. His wife and two school-aged children sometimes help him in the store.

When I heard about how hard this man works, it made me feel convicted about my attitude as a mother. Lately, I’ve been complaining in my heart about how much work I have to do in raising my family. It seems like someone is always tugging at my sleeve or crying my name. No matter how many hours I put into keeping up, there’s always another milk spilled, another cheerio crushed beneath a foot, another load to wash.

Many of us are surprised by the round-the-clock obligation mothering demands. We give all we have, and yet we still must reach further into our hearts and give more. How many of us played with dolls when we were young girls and dreamed of a wedding, marriage, and a baby carriage? It all seemed rosy and charming.

Yet for some of us, the weeks of sleepless nights with a newborn left us in a gray fog of overwhelming depression. “Why am I so tired?” we ask ourselves. “Why can’t I get anything done?”

As our family began to grow with each new child added, I prayed for God to give me strength to endure. And it’s still my prayer, especially as I approach the busy Christmas season. I’m a strong-willed person, but I’ve reached a point where I can’t get through one day without seeking help from Christ through prayer and His word.

When people see me with my grocery cart full of children, they stop and ask, “How do you do it?” My answer used to be something like, “Well, my older kids help me out” or “Oh, I’m hanging in there.” That wasn’t telling the truth. Now I say, “Jesus. I can’t get through a single day without Jesus.” It’s been amazing how many people open up to me when I say that — and they begin to tell me their own spiritual quests.

So, in my role of round-the-clock mom, I seek to have a beautiful, quiet spirit that gives without expectation of receiving. I love reading books and now blogs by other women who have made the discovery that God can indeed supply their every need during this endeavor. Jesus says to us worn-out moms, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest…For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28, 30 NIV).

Have you taken Him up on His offer today? He doesn’t stop at only working the day shift; his job never ends. And He wants to listen to you. He’s put you in this demanding role so that you can bring Him honor and glory through serving Him.

Even us stubborn moms who think we can handle things on our own — when we reach a point where we realize we can’t, He’s waiting for us. His giving knows no end. And through Him, we can find the energy and love to give a little bit more…always a little bit more.