A Thousand Words are Worth one Picture: Christmas Tree


This is my Christmas Tree. I can show you the picture. It’s a pencil tree, tall and thin instead of short and squat. It works well with our vaulted ceiling. Look at the picture. See?

But, let me tell you about this tree. Sparkling lights cover this tree. Lights. Lights. Lights. There is a beauty, a soothing peace that comes from their soft warm glow. They shine out on dark cloudy days. They shed a light that warms the soul when the winds blow. Christmas lights are the reminder that there will not always be short days. It will not always be winter. Winter. The cold bleak time of year when the world is sleeping and looks dead, but it will not always be winter. There is both an earthly truth here and a spiritual truth. It is true that spring will come and the days will again be long. There is also the truth about Christ. He came into this world and shed a strong and mighty light into the darkness dispelling the shadows. His light brought judgment, but it also brought a soothing peace to his people after a long and terrible war. So next time you sit beside your lovely Christmas tree on a dark cold night, remember that Christ came, the Light of the world. How beautiful is this?

All over my tree, I have white, clear, and silver glass ornaments. For me they represent the snow. I love the beauty of falling snow. I love the odd silence, the stillness the snow brings. I picked these ornaments because they sparkle in the lights. They reflect and refract the light out adding more sparkle to my tree. And, the tiny glass balls look a bit like bubbles which appeals to the fairy tale side of me.

I’ve added reindeer to the mix both as a representation of Santa’s eight reindeer and because I love all things woodland. I love foxes, hedgehogs, owls, crows, and deer of all kind. The tree ties into my woodland love, too. I love trees. So having a tree, tall and towering, in my living room for four to five weeks is pure magic! It makes me soooo happy.

The red ribbons add a hint of elegance to the tree that reminds me of an English Christmas. See, if you grow up reading and watching The Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe, if you grow up watching The Christmas Carol you have a sense that there is something perfect about an English Christmas. There is something older and deeper there than what we have here in America. You have a sense of time going back, of dignity and beauty and order tied to the good rich earth. The long red ribbons on my tree tie me back to that. They remind me of the old country.

Lights, tree, glittering ornaments, and a star on the top. The star is reminiscent of the star over Bethlehem when the greatest single act of grace began. When God became man. Oh what a glorious day, when God became man.

You can look at a picture of my Christmas tree and see the lights, the glow, the sparkle, and the red ribbons. You can see the swirling beauty of white, red, and green. But, the picture can’t tell you of the hope that winter will end. It can’t tell you of the hidden pictures of Christ’s First Advent. It can’t tell you of history weaving back, Christmas to Christmas to Christmas: Christmas Past, Present, and Future.

I love Christmas tree because around them lie the memories of my childhood, my family, my joining with another family, my first kiss, and many many cold nights spent cuddled up safe and warm.

Merry Christmas!!


A Thousand Words is Worth One Picture: Cruise


I didn’t anticipate the sheer giddiness that overcame me when we put out to sea in August on our first cruise. I had spent the last four weeks trying to make sure everything was packed just right, passports came through, evening wear was not super wrinkled, that I had enough motion sickness blockers to cover me the whole week, and all the other planning that goes into a cruise the first time. When those giant engines roared to life and the ship put out to sea, I laughed. I laughed for joy.

Hearing the words ‘International Maritime Law’, seeing dolphins and flying fish, and finally, finally sailing out past all that is mankind to only ocean awoke a part of my childhood I had long forgotten. Memories of Peter Pan’s ship, the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Horatio Hornblower, and the Pirates of the Caribbean, and other books and movies where they sailed the seven seas in search of treasure flooded me as the wind hit my face tasting of salt. I wanted to sing “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me.” I wanted to sail by the stars in Her Royal British Navy. I wanted to re-live childhood dreams.

I only then realized how much time me and my siblings spent reading and watching movies about the days of sailing around the world in clipper ships. I only then realized that while I had always loved the ocean from the shore, I had never loved the ocean on the ocean. It is truly something that grips you and never let’s go.


We’ve all seen pictures of the open ocean, or the moon gleaming on the water, but a picture can’t tell you about the open feeling of only sky and sea. Nothing as far as the eye can see but sky and sea. It can’t tell you about sailing through storms. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing north, east, west, or south. Turn in a circle and only sky and sea. Weight lifts from the shoulders, burdens seem small in the beauty of open ocean. Mixed with this beauty, akin to seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time, is the tiny drop of horror. You look around and nothing. On a cruise ship filled with enough food to feed a small nation the horror of emptiness lies remote, buried. But, a well-read home-schooler remembers tales of ships lost at sea. All that water and not one drop of it safe to drink boggles the mind. The beauty mixed with just a drop of fear draws you to stare out into the empty space. And it’s not just the lack of food and water, it’s the life below the surface.

Dolphins raced through the waves created by our massive ship, flying fish, tiny and almost impossible to see, flew out across the ocean, and sea gulls called in our wake, but you look for the shadows under the waves. Imaginations can run wild when you know an unexplored world lives below what you can see. This is what is captivating about the open ocean. Beauty and fear.

While we were on the cruise, there was a super moon. It shone out across the water pulling along a bright golden tail and lighting up the ship. It looked like a cheesy ocean post card and I kept waiting for a dolphin to leap through the moonbeams. We watched the moon until our eyes were heavy with sleep and bed called in an inescapable lullaby.

The sun rose over blue oceans turning clouds pink and lavender. What a glorious way to wake up. Sleeping on a ship was some of the best sleep I’ve ever had. The gentle rocking, the sense of nothing, the going on forever lulls you down into the depths of unconscious dreaming.

Formal night delighted me with finery and laughter. Movies from the twenties came to mind and I half expected Hercule Poirot come around a corner with his perfect mustache.

In a picture, you see the open ocean, you see the blue water with hints of purple and bits of green, but you don’t really see the open ocean. You don’t see how your eye instinctively looks to the horizon, that far distant line of blue meeting blue. You don’t see how the ocean is the perfect shade of denim with just enough dark wash and just enough light. At the corner of your eye dances the sparkle of the sunshine slipping across the top of little waves. Above, the sky is a very clear blue with a strong white under tone too strong to be a baby blue. It is a true and real sky blue broken by a wisp or poof of cloud here and there.

The voices of the other guest sound out, excited children call out to each other, breaking through the soft, muffled woosh of the ship cutting through the water. A gentle sway reminds you you’re not on solid ground and the smell of coffee delivered to your door reminds you you’re on vacation.


I could dedicate a whole other article to the storms we sailed through. They were spectacular. After one we almost missed due to dinner, we saw the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The rain trailed from blue clouds like beards off an old man’s face. The sun turned the sea and sky pink, orange, orange, and pink. A double rainbow arched across the blue expanse.

The sea is a dangerous thing and someday I’ll return to her again.


This article is dedicated to my Husband, the Coles and the Garricks. It was wonderful to spend so much time with all y'all!

This article is dedicated to my Husband, the Coles and the Garricks. It was wonderful to spend so much time with all y’all!