Light: One Word for 2022

When I was still teaching, a lifetime ago but really just last year, during a staff meeting we used to choose One Word for the upcoming year. Not a resolution. Not a pledge to eat healthy or exercise more. One Word to keep us on the path. One Word to remind us of what is important when life gets messy.

My One Word has changed over the years, including choices like hope, revise, write, and appreciate. This year I chose light.

In this never-ending darkness of sickness and hate, I want to be light. Switchfoot, a San Diego band I’ve loved since the 1990s, says it like this—“Your wounds are where the light shines through.”

2021 was a year of extremes. Losing friends. Gaining grand twins. Crushing weight of teaching during a pandemic and then retirement. Progression of my husband’s chronic illness. Enjoying nature through camping. Rejection emails from potential literary agents. A disability settlement for my husband. More time to write.

For 2022, I want to reflect light to others around me. I want to choose light for myself and my family. There will still be darkness this year, but light destroys darkness. Instead of dwelling on my losses, I will focus on what I can do. In the light, it is easy to see your loved ones. In the light, it is easy to find your joy.

I hope you choose your One Word for 2022. May it be a cheerleader reminding you of your reflections on a dark day at the end of December.

I will be living in the light this year.

December 30, 2021 1

Not a creature was stirring

It’s Christmas Eve, and the rain hasn’t stopped since yesterday morning.

A few days ago, it was the shortest day of the year. I felt like it was time to go to bed at 4:30 pm. The darkness encroaches even further into daylight hours with this storm. Usually in December, we still have brilliant sunshine. Maybe this is what it feels like to live places where they have a real winter.

I know I’m not supposed to complain about rain when our whole state has been in a drought for years. It’s a joy to turn off my sprinklers. But rain raises the stakes for my daughter crossing the Grapevine down from Northern California. Our grandkids might get snowed in up in the San Bernardino Mountains. I won’t be able to seat some of my Christmas brunch guests outside by the pool. Complications I usually don’t have to consider.

Other places in California that are still recovering from wildfires will now have flooding and mudslides. Fortunately, that doesn’t affect our town, but we remember those displaced people in our prayers.

If rain brings nature’s renewal, I welcome it. Too bad this year with its continuing troubles couldn’t be washed away with the rain as well. It will be cozy to sit by the fireplace and sip hot cocoa. I can see the twinkling Christmas lights through the eyes of my seven-month-old grand twins.

It’s Christmas Eve. A quiet one this year but a refreshing deep breath as we turn the page to next year.

December 24, 2021 1

Christmas Cookie

Rain pounded on the roof. I measured out flour and salt into a metal bowl. My kitchen was ablaze with light as the storm stole all daylight. In a larger bowl, I mixed butter and sugar. The dogs whined as they needed to go outside but being California born, they didn’t trust going out in the rain. I sent them outside anyway. After I creamed the butter and sugar with my hand mixer, I added eggs and vanilla. Although wind rattled the windows, it was warm and cozy in our house. I hoped the heater would not break down this year. It was time to ease in the dry ingredients a little at a time. Outside my kitchen window, water streamed off our tin patio roof and into the eager flower beds. At least we wouldn’t need the sprinklers for a while. No need to waste water in a drought.

I spooned the dough into my cookie press, chose a shape disc, and replaced the end of the cylinder. Squeezing the dough through the tube created precise patterned cookies on the baking sheet. The rain beat down harder but for now the roof didn’t leak. I shook some colored sugar over the raw dough. It would be a miracle if my Amazon Christmas gifts were delivered in this storm. The baking sheets went into the oven, and I set the timer. When the time was right, I would pull out beautiful, delicious sugar cookies. After they cooled, I would wrap them up in tins and give them to my friends at Christmas.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been measured by others and whipped around by them. Squeezed through difficult times of my life. Sprinkled with sweet words when I felt raw. Trapped in fiery trials like in a hot oven. But when the time was right, I was brought out of the heat, beautifully shaped and full of sweetness. Ready to share.

Let your life be a Christmas cookie to someone.

December 15, 2021 0

Stable

Today I found victory in the form of a wooden stable.

As I unpacked my Christmas decorations this year, I remembered how much I had lost. When my children were still in school, someone broke into our garage and stole all our Christmas boxes. It was only a few years after my husband died suddenly and left me with three elementary age children. A special level of Hell is reserved for those burglars.

Over the years, my husband’s mother had given my children a special ornament Christmas. We even had an ornament from my husband’s childhood Christmas tree. Although none cost much money, they were priceless. At the time, I didn’t have money to replenish my decorations, but some coworkers gave me their extra ornaments.

As I said, for those burglars, a special level of Hell.

Now my children are adults, off on their own quests. After years as a single mother, I finally remarried. Christmas is special in a different way. But when I unwrap my ornaments, they look unfamiliar. They hold memories for other people but not me.

A few years ago, a friend gave me a beautiful set of nativity scene figures. I searched the internet for a stable to with them, but everything was too expensive. Every year I would set them up on a side table, but the shepherds and three kings looked untethered without the stable backdrop.

This year, another friend took me to a huge craft and decorating store. All the Christmas décor was on sale, and customers were heaping their carts with gingham trees and wooden reindeer.

And there it was. Tucked into the shelf next to wreathes and stocking holders.

A stable, decorated with natural sticks and flocked with fake snow. The perfect size for my Nativity figures. And on sale for the price of two large Starbucks coffees.

Now when I sit by my Christmas tree and glance over at the table, Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus are tucked safely in a simple but elegant stable. The kings and even the cow and lamb approve.

My world feels a tiny bit right.

December 3, 2021 0