Just Saying the Loud Part Out Loud

  

Supermoon, November 2025, Thailand

I proclaim your saving acts in the public places;

I do not seal my lips, LORD, as You know.

I do not hide Your righteousness in my heart;

I speak of Your faithfulness and Your saving help.

I do not conceal your love and Your faithfulness

from the public places...

May all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You;

may those who long for Your saving help always say,

"The LORD is great!"

Psalm 40:9-10, 16

I am feeling strongly compelled to join the psalmist this particular night.

New Year's Eve, and so so much to proclaim and speak, and no desire to keep in inside.

The Lord is great, yes He is.  Mysterious and uncontrollable, knowing but not explaining Himself most of the time, but gentle and generous and merciful to me.  

And I just have to say so as the year comes to a close.  Because it's been such a God-filled year, at every turn.  I just seems wrong not to give this voice.

This sentiment is also reflected in a worship song that I believe was new to me this year.  It's title is simple.  "Praise" by Elevation Worship.  I love the energy of it.  And it begins with a repeated refrain, "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord" (from Psalm 50:6).  But this whole idea that we can't help ourselves when we've got something spectacular to say is in the bridge.

"I won't be quiet, my God is alive

So how could I keep it inside?"

And so, dear, dear amazing, beautiful God.  

Where should I begin?  Oh my!

First, thank You for being in charge, and so big, and so wild.

Thank You for all the ways You have shown up for us this past year of 2025.  For the generous gifts of house and home, of warmth and belonging, of safety and health, and for the over and above provision for all our needs.  Thank You for continually teaching me, correcting me, guiding me.  Thank You for all the answered prayer, for all the challenges that drove me deeper, for all the love that sustained me, for every beautiful soul I encountered and learned from.  

With You all things are possible, and that means 2026 is embraced with open arms, no matter what.  

With confidence and anticipation and joy and wonder, 

Yours always,

Me

May your New Year bring so much of life and blessing that it makes you all mushy and expressive too (or at least as much as you care to be).  

Happy 2026 to us all.

Almost

 

There's still bluster in the forecast, but at least the day started with a bit of open sky.  And yet, I remain indoors until a needful follow up appointment for bloodwork, and a quick stop into Shoppers compels me to brace the elements.  But that was the afternoon.

In the morning I did some desk work, mostly because end-of-month reports are due and transparency and accountability should take no holiday.  It's a satisfying task though, giving me a chance to reflect on all that's been accomplished in the past four weeks.  Christmas included but not exclusively, a whole lot happened in December that I and a bunch of others who journey this with me can feel very happy about.  People have been generous with their time, talents and treasures, and it all comes out to a decidedly positive end of year.

Then out for the aforementioned appointment and a short visit to a friend in hospital.  And that's about all I can do for the day.  So glad to get back to the house and snuggle in for another pondering over the puzzle.  Feel compelled to post an update.

There's more glare on this shot because of the extra bits of sunshine earlier.  But it's coming along nicely, still providing the softness and warmth one enjoys best on a wintry afternoon.  

And now it's dark and more snow is supposedly on the way.  And it's all part of the easy way of things as the year draws to a close.  

Saw a meme on Facebook that said something about how hilarious it is to ask folks who are usually in bed by 8:30 what their New Year's plans were.  Yup.  That's us.  Right now it's 6:15 p.m. and we've finished supper and done the dishes and I'm already in my pjs.  Ha!

Stay cozy friends, as you are able.

Blursday on Soft Focus

 

In repentance and rest is your salvation,

in quietness and trust is your strength,

but you would have none of it.

Isaiah 30:15

So.

This pretty much sums up what Ken and I did yesterday.  Just this.

Not quite true.  There were still dishes to do, turkey pies to make, a fridge and freezer to reorganize, and other 'we had a big Christmas dinner here yesterday' stuff to put away.  But after that, a little later in the morning, we set up the small table, poured out the pieces, and just went at it.

There's something so soft about puzzling.  After the all the happy bustle of the season, the lingering over pieces, the sorting out of colours, the little dopamine hit when you find that one piece that finishes off a section; all lays like warm cotton to mute and blend and soften the edges of my conscious self while at the same time bringing me fully present in this simple moment.

It was ironic how, as the picture we were creating came slowly into focus, the rest of the day blurred into irrelevance.  We lost track of time.  Had a late lunch break, but sat down again right away and just stayed with the puzzle.  It being Sunday and us not being at church didn't help.  The whole day just sort of slowly spread out like thick sweet batter in a pan.  Before I knew it it was 3:30 and already starting to get dark.  Wait, what?

We can get disoriented when the regular flow of life is interrupted even by happy things like Christmas.  "Blursday."  Whoever came up with that describes it well.  So this morning, my first thoughts were to regain some sense of order and control.  To - oh I know! Make a list!!  Which is...ooookaaaaay.  But then again, I have determined to take a 'real' holiday this week.  To rest.  To recharge.  To pay attention to my own body and soul, and to do....less.  To avoid the chastening of the last line of Isaiah 30:15.  To maybe blur things a little, and lose myself in something soft like puzzling.  Maybe I'll bring Blursday into a teeny little better focus, but not all the way.

So while I did make a list, it's light.  And 'in pencil'  so maybe a bit smudgy.  And in truth, I'm hoping that the week holds more days of losing track of time softly, letting the edges blur some.  And here's where I often find gratitude grows.  For some reason, in these quite moments, all the blessings of this past year visit me.  

Again with the weather though!  Hope everyone has their power back on by this morning.  Ken and I only saw flickers but otherwise we were fine.  And anyone who is heading back to work this morning, be safe out there.   

Family Christmas Dinner for Ten - Adventures in Small Home Living

 

Well, we did it!  I think.

Yesterday's gathering around a full turkey dinner, complete with the required dessert surplus, marked the official end of Christmas celebrations for Ken and I for this season.

Before I fill in the details, it should be noted that we were and are very much in mind of extended family who could not be with us due to significant health issues that arose in November and seriously changed holiday plans.  We were supposed to be celebrating this event elsewhere with more people, and we definitely felt the lack of all that.  Prayers continue.

And.

Since the idea of not have a proper turkey dinner was unthinkable in our minds, we came up with a plan.  Actually, it started as a question.

Could we find a way to have a sit down dinner for ten in our small home?

Those who've been following along with blogs and such already know that just about a year ago now, Ken and I were handed the keys to our brand new 625 square foot 'additional living unit' on a property in Kitchener we co-own with our son.  Thank you, by the way to those I ran into in various situations over the holidays who asked about it.  Your interest is warming.  And yes, we LOVE it.  Even after a full twelve months of simpler living, we are so comfy and content and very, very glad we made the big move and downsized our living space.  Our son, David, and also Harvest, who live in the house just steps away, have also helped to make this a very successful life-transition, just be being so open and accommodating and patient and relaxed about it all.  

But.

We've never had a sit down dinner.  Mostly because we don't really even have a table.  Just a little breakfast nook with an antique tea trolley that boasts a lifting side leaf.  We've had folks for build-your-own-sandwich lunches.   At Easter we had twelve for buffet desserts.  But never before had we attempted anything sit-down at all, let alone for ten.

Cooking the food wasn't really going to be a challenge, since we had the winning combo of folks bringing desserts with them, and the run of two kitchens.  We bought two smaller turkeys to accommodate our smaller oven, with one cooking next door, and that was plenty.  

In terms of tables and chairs, we asked to borrow two and ten from the church.  We had the china and good silverware stored in the crawl space.  I retrieved the two white table cloths from my daughter.  And I found the little name card holders shaped like Christmas ornaments that have long been part of my Christmas table setting whimsy.  For the most part, it seemed like we were good to go.

Having enough space was still going to be a challenge.  This involved taking apart and removing the large electric recliner, and swinging the couch to against the wall just beside the main entranceway.  Then we would set up the two tables side by side and put the ten tables all around.  At least that was the plan.

First little problem was that the chairs ended up not being available due to an event held by one of the other churches who use Highview's facility.  Never mind, because when we set up the tables there wasn't room for them anyways.  That meant that we needed to use the couch for table sitting, and fetched the folding chairs from the crawl space, something I had wanted to avoid due to esthetic and comfort reasons.  Tying ribbon on the backs of the chairs helped pull the look together though.

Another small thing, and I'm really sure it only mattered to me, was that I couldn't find either my gold napkins rings or the white cloth napkins.  We made due just fine for this year, but I am still hoping they show up in the next little while.  Having said that, there were very few things that I truly lost track of in this big move, and I'm grateful for that.

The table fully set did dominate the room.  Still, we had enough side tables and counter space to hold all the desserts, have a tea and cider station, and serve the food and carve the turkey.  It was just a tad chaotic for about 15 minutes while we did all that, but once the food was all on the table, and we all sat down, things were both cozy and delicious.   The cozy part made us declare that no one could get any bigger or find a significant other to bring to family dinners, both completely unrealistic and not any of our real hopes at all.  The delicious part I can say without any sense of bragging because Ken looks after the turkey, and everyone else brings desserts, like I already said. 

Next challenge:  Clearing away the tables so we have room to open presents.  I have to say, my family did a stellar job of following the instructions, especially since this was a new feature of our Christmas time together.  I honestly didn't know how this would work, so I included in the instructions the note that we were to aim for 'minimal crashing, please.'  It's a small space after all, and there were ten of us, and some of us tend towards the more risk-taking/clumsy side of things.

But in the end, it hardly took ten minutes, and just like that, we had a wide space and no crashing at all.  A few better chairs were brought in from the bedrooms to relax in; we refreshed our tea and cider, exchanged meaningful gifts, and simply enjoyed each other.  

We even took a little trek over to the other house to hear a short performance by Harvest on the double bass to demonstrate the quality and resonance of the new bow received for Christmas.  That kid can play practically any instrument available, it's amazing (yes, I know I'm the Gramma, but honestly!).

The left over mess?  That's normal.  Everyone helped with clearing away the main room, and also by taking home lots of leftovers.  The dishes were a thing.  Our small but mighty dishwasher has been put through a few cycles already, but the bigger items required more hands-on attention.  As I write, the roasting pans are soaking.  We're making various compilations of what is still to go back downstairs.  And despite the aforementioned take-home of leftovers, our fridge is full.  

So did we do it?

I'll admit, it did not feel the same.  But maybe we just need to do it this way a few more times for the goodness of all we do have in the new traditions to seep in a little bit more.  And there is goodness, no question.  To be together, all in one room, marking another year of our family's journey, being just us and that being so enough, being who we are and knowing what we know and loving each other anyways...these are rare and precious moments.  I receive them carefully, respectfully.  

And now begins a string of days with nothing pressing on the calendar.  Today Highview observes a Sunday Sabbath rest, and I for one am very glad for it to end this rather intensive week past.  I've set the 'out of office' notification on my email.  We have a puzzle.  And a few 'organizationally fun' projects on a 'if I feel like it list.'  And of course, more reflections on the year in review as we head to the end of 2025 next Wednesday.  

Bring on the Blursday.  I'm okay with just laying low now for a little while, all cozy here in our still-new, actually-seats-ten-for-a-sit-down-dinner little home.  Sounds like some nasty weather is on the way.  All the better to hunker down in.

God on Christmas Eve

 

In my adult life, Christmas has of course become a season-long celebration.  It's no longer just about 'the Day,' but about all that happens leading up to and even after it.  Oh the carols, both in church and in the malls.  And all the food, yes the sweets.  And the decorating, for me, way in advance, to set the tone for the 'light against the darkness' reflections that will still my soul as the year draws to a close. 

But there remains something 'extra' about Christmas Eve, I think.  Maybe something that has morphed from the childhood frenzied excitement that meant we could barely get to sleep, and all the presents we hoped to be under the tree the next morning, to a more subtle but still deeply anticipatory spiritual state of longing and wonder, representing all the things I still long for.  Belonging, joy, peace, love.  My 'grown up Christmas wish' if you will.  

Yes, there's still that ridiculous expectation on Christmas Eve.

Today, my daughter, in a nod to a family tradition we had when we were all growing up, sent a little meme with a street scene from The Muppets Christmas Carol, and a caption quoting one of the songs, "After all, it's only one more sleep 'til Christmas Day."  And I sang it in my head and felt all the feels.

I want to sit here right now in the longing for it.  In anticipation of what it all represents. 

And as I do, a thought drops in. 

God wanted me.

It stops me short.  Intrudes on where I thought this post was going.  

I imagine God on "Christmas Eve," that first time, waiting for just the right moment.  The holy anticipation.  The divine state of longing and wonder, because...He wanted me.

I mean, isn't that story?  That we celebrate a logic-defying Incarnation that was motivated by God's deep and eternal desire to have us 'with' Him in a way we couldn't accomplish on our own?  That really, what God wanted for Christmas, was....us.  You and me.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son. (John 3:16).

He sits with me in these moments, as if we are all excited and anticipating Christmas Day together.  Maybe I hear Him whisper, "Isn't this exciting?"

Good Gifts of Christmas

 

Of all the plans laid out for this last week of Christmas, yesterday was the one with the most demanding schedule.  Something had to happen on time and in coordination with traffic and other good folks and all in good order starting at 11 a.m. and ending at 10 p.m.  Most of it was out of the house, out and about, and/or at the church.

So waking up this morning with the full stretch of the day ahead was a gift in itself.  

I've answered a few emails, dealt with a few minor details of work which, while not urgent, if left unattended could easily fall between the holiday cracks,  Filed a few important papers in the same category, and 'chatted' back and forth with Thailand a little bit. If something random comes to mind, I have the space to tend to it.  None of it pressing.  Just the kind of morning where it feels maybe like it snowed last night and I'm glad to stay home.  

And that it's almost Christmas.

Reminds me of the beginnings of something by Mary Oliver, entitled simply  "Christmas Poem."

...go to the barn on Christmas Eve and see

what the creatures do as that long night tips over.

Down on their knees they will go, the fire

of an old memory whistling through their minds!

I went.  Wrapped to my eyes against the cold and peered in...

It goes on, and ends well.  But for this moment, I leave it here...in anticipation of Christmas not complete.

In these quieter days I am doing all that I can to embrace and receive, even in the Christmas undertakings that might require something of me.  It's a bit of a balance, this gentle "going to the barn."  But I am grateful for oh so many good gifts that make it vivid, and mindful.  Come to think of it, so many good gifts come at Christmas that have nothing to do with what's under the tree.

Soon enough we'll pack up to head back to the church for the first showing of Let It Be Christmas 2025.  Isn't it great that they still let me part of that crew?

Let it Be Christmas

 

Tonight is dress rehearsal!!!

Love the anticipation of this night, and the two performances on December 23 and 24 at Highview.

A unique retelling that many have come to make their tradition for so many years now.

Also glad to be part of supporting Indwell Supportive Housing in Ontario.

Making room for those who have no place to belong is, after all, an essential part of the Christian story.

Both shows are all booked, sorry.  This year, spots were being reserved as early as October!

Grateful for the travel mercies of our Music Director Derek as he has had to be back and forth to northern Ontario all month, and also our Pastor Erin who also has some treacherous roads to navigate.  But here we all are, safe and sound, or at least very much looking that way.

Let the retelling begin!