"No room."  Most of us have heard the story. The fabled innkeeper who turned away Mary and Joseph in their hour of need. The calloused man has become a staple in the Christmas story, though he's never mentioned in the Bible. No, really. The only Gospel that makes mention of there being 'no room' is Luke chapter two. Check it out: "and she gave birth to her Son, her firstborn; and she wrapped Him in [swaddling] cloths and laid Him in a manger, because there was no [private] room for them in the inn." (Luke 2:7 AMP) No innkeeper, only a…

Past stars and galaxies, the glittering lights of mysteries beyond I flew. I was not alone. No, an entire heavenly congregation soared with me. We danced past shimmering hosts and luminescent wonders, winging and dancing, spiraling and speeding past the diamonds of the Holy One’s masterpiece until we pushed past the transparent glass of the blue marbled planet’s firmament. I breathed in the frigid air, peering through the night sky, to look down on this strange place…the King’s new home. Humble. Broken. Needy. Such a startling contrast from the glory of whence He had come. Indeed, the raw starkness of it swirled…

When asked what my favorite Christmas song is, a dozen tunes flicker through my mind: "Carol of the Bells”, “Be Born in Me”, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day", and “Winter Wonderland” all top the list. But the one that never grows old and gives me sweet chills every time I hear it is “O Holy Night”. The origins of this beloved song are fascinating. The year was 1847 in a French village, and the local priest made an unusual request of the local wine commissioner, and not-very-religious Placide Cappeau. The priest asked this infamously worldly village man to…

I'm a beautiful mess this time of year. And I've learned that's okay. For years I lost precious sleep, valuable hair and added circles under my eyes to achieve the perfect Christmas. For my kids. For my husband. For my church. For my own ridiculous ideals. Christmas is the mother ship for us perfectionist types. Correction, recovering perfectionists, because that's what I am. I wanted to give my family the Norman Rockwell paintings of Christmas memories. You know, something they could look back on and say, "Ah, those were the good old days." I nearly made myself a nut job…

“How inexplicably sad are all holidays.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned the melancholy words during a difficult time in not only his life, but in the entire nation's.  On July 10, 1861, mere months after the country had been launched into the turmoil of the Civil War, Henry’s wife Fanny was trimming her daughter’s curls and decided to preserve the clippings in sealing wax. While melting a bar of wax with a candle, a few drops fell unnoticed on her dress. A gust of wind blew through an open window, igniting the hot wax on her dress and quickly engulfing her…

I've recently spent the past few weeks on voice rest. After finding a massive yeast infection and a cyst on my vocal chords, my doctor insisted on medicine and as little speaking as possible for three weeks. It was frustrating to say the least, but I learned several lessons I pray I won't forget. Lesson #1: There are so many ways to communicate. I've always known this, but I never truly understood that 90% of communication can be passed along with body language, mouthing, facial expressions, signing, writing, and everything in between. I feared being unable to speak for weeks…