Author: Melissa Snyder

Melissa Snyder https://awriterbecoming.wordpress.com Melissa Snyder is an introvert with a flair for the dramatic in her writing. She is a wife, mother, teacher, compulsive writer, voracious reader, and fierce defender of Love and Imagination. She likes to write about faith (her own and faith in general) and self and emotion and society and hobbies, as well as revealing the myriad paracosms that inhabit her mind. These paper bullets of the brain live in her blog and on Facebook where she endeavors to write about life and Imagination boldly and share honestly.

Lingering in the Lazy

Leave a comment

My Spring Break has come to an end, and I was sad to see it go, but it was a lovely nine days. Long and deliciously lazy. I largely spent the days bundled up in a blanket on the couch, my purring cat in my lap, and a book in my hands.

However, what I enjoyed the most about Spring Break was the absolute lack of any guilt at doing absolutely nothing. I enjoyed it so very much and felt no guilt whatsoever at taking time for rest. In fact, the whole family did. We were all in deep need of a break, and so I believe our Spring Break was spent in the best possible way: in a sweetly lazy, lingering week. Late wake-ups and hurkle-durkling (look it up; you’ll like it), slow mornings, and no compulsion to go anywhere just to “get out of the house”. I simply did not have the energy to rush around try to do all the things in a week or be away from home without all that makes me comfy. Home is what I needed! What we all needed!

It was also interesting to see how our cat Jack reacted to us lingering at home all week. Instead of being peeved with us intruding on his quiet empty-house days, he chose to linger, too, soaking up all the lap time and snuggles that he could. We napped together in the afternoons; he snuggled up to me or nested nearby while I read or watched television. He just lingered in our presence, in my lap, at Ben’s feet, or on the floor of Elizabeth’s room (or in their bed, which he prefers).

All in all, it was a precious few days spent lingering in all the things that refresh and rejuvenate me and in the presence of those dearest to me. I even got to have birthday dinner with one of my wifey-besties and brunch with my fabulous in-laws!

Do not be afraid to linger in the lazy, dear ones. Sometimes, the “lack” of anything to do–or the straight-up choice to just not–is just what our soul needs to catch up with us again.

Happy lingering!

Embracing the Season

Leave a comment

In December of 2024, and then revisited on the January 24, 2025, edition, All Things Considered profiled Kari Leibowitz and her study of the “wintertime mindset”. Fascinated by the data that pointed to countries at higher latitudes having fewer instances of seasonal depression during the winter, Leibowitz decided to see for herself. Relocating to the Arctic Circle in Norway, she spent a long, dark, cold winter in a deep-dive study of just what it was that produced the positive outlook of these Norwegians, as well as having observed and researched in Scandinavia and northern Japan, among other locations. Through her studies over the last decade, Leibowitz determined that winter can be “cozy, magical, and refreshing” if we will orient ourselves towards the positive aspects of it, rather than viewing winter as a season to be merely endured.

I am honestly in the middle of the best winter of my life. As fall began to wind down last year, I found something in my soul yearning for winter, for the cold, for the barren dormancy, and especially for the profound quiet of snowfall. I determined, at some unconscious point, that I was going to enjoy my wintering this year. So far, we have gotten a fair amount of snow here in my state, and, while my hips and back hate me when I have to shovel it, I have still enjoyed it immensely. The beauty of its falling, the muffling quality of its blanket outside, and how it obliterates all the blemishes, rendering the world a clean, blank slate for a while. I have opened my blinds to watch the snowglobe world outside as it falls, wrapped in cozy blankets and warmed by my fireplace.

I have loved it when it has been so very cold outside that the very air itself seemed to sparkle. I have covered my home with light — candles and strings of sparkling bulbs–to combat the long winter dark outside. The tree will remain up for the remainder of the season, reflecting joy in its twinkle and glow.

I have wrapped myself in warm sweaters, comfy hoodies, softs socks, and thick leggings, dressings for the cold that will also keep me cozy within if the heating struggles against the might of the icy air without. I am enjoying layers of skirts, knit, and boots, living out my Outlander-inspired dreams.

I have thoroughly embraced Winter this year, and I am loving it. I am loving this low-energy season of life, enjoying leaning into the rest and quiet and calm of my blankets, books, coffee, and cat. I am purposefully building relaxation and dormancy into my winter life, holding the principles of hygge (Denmark) and mys (Sweden) close to my heart.

I am adoring Winter and finding it refreshing in ways that I had not expected. For example, my appetite for books and stories (which has always been healthy) has skyrocketed. I am experiencing such joy in the anticipation and eagerness to sit down to read every day. I have stocked up candles in all my favorite scents, the ones that send my body and mind instantly into relax mode. Those scents transition me back into my sense of home and cozy belonging, knowing that I am safe in my little hobbit hole and the rest of the world can wait until tomorrow.

So, if you’ll excuse me, my blankets and books are calling.

If you’d like to know more about Kari Leibowitz’s studies, you can check out her book How to Winter: Harness Your Mindset to Thrive on Cold, Dark, or Difficult Days.

Lingering in the Slow

2 Comments

12 January 2025

In today’s Call to Worship, Ben read a piece from Richard Foster, which started, “My soul is noisy…” and it hit home like a flick on the nose. How often do I stay busy either at the urging of or to keep the noise at bay, or muffled at the very least? How often do I bury myself in work to silence the insistent noise that I should be doing something?  That to rest is weakness, laziness, worthless?

When did my soul become so full of that noise? Is this why I have felt so driven over the past few years to build in a practice of rest and quiet? I am so used to the nose but I do not want to be. I want to keep learning to rest and embrace quiet and stillness for my soul. To rest in defiance of the noise, to embrace the quiet in which the Lord speaks. Quakers often refer to faith and practice when speaking about the foundational beliefs and actions that make up our faith. I am looking to build in (or resurrect) practices that will aid in centering my self and my soul amidst the craziness of the world as it is.

I am trying to plant gardens of quiet amidst the busyness of my days, moments centered solely on not. On the sweet, slow practices that fill my soul. Right now, those practices center on reading. I am working to strengthen an age-old love of relaxing with books–with beloved and new stories, reflecting notions, and wise words–into a new habit. At this time, those intentional moments are right after work in the evening, transitioning into being at home again, and right before bed. Grounding my body in stillness and my mind in the quiet practice of reading, allowing myself to slow and calm after a highly-engaged day. May this be a blessed year of embracing quiet as a practice for me.

Lingering #2

Leave a comment

Greeting cards have all been sent; the Christmas rush is through…

As the hustle and bustle of the Holidays come to an end and we stretch into these liminal days between Christmas and New Year’s, I find myself wanting to linger on in the softness of the season. I do not want to give up that special, magical quality just yet. As I contemplate resetting the house for the New Year, I find myself really hesitant to let go of the comfort I find in the glowing, twinkling lights. I just want to linger in the sweetness and the gentleness of that glow.

I have gone so far as to consider something that I have never done before: not taking down my Christmas tree. Or, at least, not all the way. I am strongly considering taking off the ornaments but leaving the tree itself up and wrapped in its lights, preserving that soft, magical twinkling in my home throughout the new year. I may or may not go so far as to decorate the tree for other holidays, but I will cross that bridge when I get to it.

Right now, though, I just want the soothing softness of light, the magical glimmer in the corner of my eye. I welcome it to linger and last for as long as possible.

Advent 2024 ~ Lingering

Leave a comment

Lingering

There is a distinctly Midwestern habit that no one can deny, and that is the tendency to linger. It is not only Midwestern but very Caribbean as well. I remember it from my childhood.

After-Sunday-dinner dozing in the lawn chairs on my grandmother’s porch while my mother lingered on with her inside at the kitchen table.

Lingering over Christmas dinners at a favorite restaurant with one of my favorite teachers and her family.

Our youth group leaders taking us out for late-night Wendy’s and then taking their time dropping us all home after Friday night youth group. Letting us linger on in the church bus together, chatting and laughing and singing our choir pieces. I often wasn’t home until midnight.

Now, as an adult, I find I have developed a surprisingly deep love for lingering.

It may be lingering in the foyer or on the front step of a house after an enjoyable get-together.

It might be loitering over cooling cups of coffee, loathe for such a delightful visit to end.

It is curling more tightly into a chair or couch in your reluctance to break the sweet spell of good company.

Or pulling an embrace closer, hating the idea of leaving their solid or gentle warmth behind.

This is the season for lingering. For remaining in the quiet moments when you choose to rest. Tarrying in the snuggles of children, partners, and furry friends. Taking long moments in the soothing glow of twinkle lights.

It is for pausing, bundled up, on the porch to enjoy the beautifully profound quiet of a snowfall.

We linger in the ringing notes of a Noel as it hangs, ethereal, in the air above our heads.

As we wait in the glimmer of candles and lights, may we reach for the hand of a cherished one nearby. Even a silent, sweet gesture is still Love.

Love still lingers in fewer gifts.

Love still lingers in perhaps a lessening of those gathered around the dinner table. 

Love still lingers in the simple invitation to sit and be.

In this Advent season, let’s remain in the love born and given to us in the humblest of means. May we linger in the truth that we are not alone, that we are loved.

Let us linger in the quiet, peaceful moments, however rare. May we hold them ever closer and treasure them as they deserve.

Advent 2024 ~ Light

Leave a comment

As winter draws through the doorway, ducking its frosty head under the lintel, the days grow gray, colder, and, yes, darker. The lights of our homes conversely grow softer and more golden, and more lights begin to fill yards and trees to accompany the growing darkness. Within our homes, light glows and twinkles in the form of candles and holiday lights. Fireplaces crackle and whisper comfort. Porch lights burn against the early-onset evening shadows, calling family and friends home. The light spilling out from doorways promises warmth and welcome as doors are thrown open wide.


In the midst of the growing dark and cold, we can hold onto the Light this Advent season. The Light of Christmas came into the world, accompanied by a star for the Magi and a bright angelic chorus for the shepherds, but for Jesus Himself, His welcome was only the loving glow of his mother’s face and the gentle cradle of Joseph’s rough hands. In the darkness of that stable, the Light of love still shone brightly. As the darkness of winter sets in, may we fill our spaces with light that beams from love, compassion, and generosity. Even in all the dark and difficulty, there is still light to be found in the small corners.

There is the warmth of a proffered cup of coffee together with no expectation of the other person but their sweet company.

There is light in the card or gift that shows up in the mail to remind someone that they are loved and thought of.

There is the glow that comes to someone’s heart when they are told, “This beautiful thing reminded me of you”.


Just as the Light came on that dark, cold night so many centuries ago, a baby nestling into the warmth and love of His parents’ embrace, we can be a light in the shadows now. We can echo Love in all its different, compassionate forms. We can be the glowing doorway that guides a heart through the rough terrain of difficulty or at least gives them a space in which to rest and regain their strength. In that welcome into the light, we can echo the words of Jesus, in His invitation to  “Come…all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). We can make mankind our business and offer light into the growing, darkening cold.

Let’s hold our candles and lanterns high, those sweet lights that guide us and others to rest and peace, love and hope. Even for just a moment, a space to breathe freely in the light. Let us cling to that Light this Advent and always, and work to share our candle warmth with fellow travelers on this road.

The Precious Expanse of an Empty Page

Leave a comment

There are few things as beautiful to me as the smooth creaminess of a blank notebook page. I love running my hands over its soft, empty expanse. There’s a comforting hope in imagining the smooth lines of my pen filling that page. The words of my mind and heart drawing a map on that blank landscape. The potential of it is one of the most amazing things in life.

I love the sensations of it. The silky feeling of the untouched page beneath my fingertips. The glide of my pen over its fibers, leaving the flow of my cursive behind it. The unique beauty of my handwritten lines as they weave together stories and ideas and revelations. I love it when my letters glow with color, shimmering or glittery, or stand in elegant, smooth black. Whether it is a story, a reflection or a letter, the sight of those words and sentences in their own one-of-a-kindness does my soul good.

Seeing that empty page fill up with my thoughts and feelings, there has always been a sense of joy that wells up in me. These lines and words on this feather expanse of paper are proof that I exist. Proof that I had thoughts and ideas and did my best to send good out into the world during my time here on Earth. I pray my words will indeed have done some good and shared love even beyond my knowledge of it. If my lines, letters, and stories last after I am gone, I pray that they will do only good for those who find them. May they be blessings and encouragements. May theses lines up on these empty expanses of pages exhort others to be just, merciful, and brave.

Words are precious, and I have been blessed with an abundance of them. May the pages I leave behind do good; may my gift give of its best in love.

October Cherishings (2024 Edition)

Leave a comment

This autumn has finally come into itself– in weather, color, and activity. We have visited apple orchards, have cooked out, gone trick-or-treating, and enjoyed our fireplace. We have yet to make stew for the season but we have made soup. We have oo’d and ahh’d over the gorgeous colors and dressed cozily in our hoodies and sweaters for walks. I have burned through comforting candle after comforting candle, their flames flickering along sweetly with the twinkle lights draped over the bookshelves in our small library. Yes, it was a lovely October. So I thought it fitting to once again share some things (though many of them remain the same), namely…

Here is what I cherished this October.

  1. Friday Nights — I have kept on with my firm resolve that no work will be done on Friday nights. Not by anyone in the house, yes, but especially not by me. After basic cleaning is done upon getting home, then work stops for the night. No tidying, no homework, no grading, no studying, no work emails/texts, nothing. Everything can wait until Saturday or Sunday. Fridays are for rest — for snacks and movies, shows, games, or books. Friday nights are sacrosanct. Friday nights are mine. Holding this boundary has done me a world of good over the past few years, has become something I look deeply forward to, and will continue to do me good, I am so convinced.
  2. Wearing Knits and Boots – I love to dress cozily. I love my sweaters, skirts, knit ponchos, arm warmers, socks, autumnal colors, and scarves/shawls. These past few weeks have contained some days and evenings that have been lovely for all of my cozy clothes and my favorite pairs of over-the-knee boots with even taller socks. This impetus to lean into coziness has made some sweet happiness for my soul.
  3. Being Ravenous to Read – I have not been able to put down my books. I crave stories and tales and worlds to escape into. One after another after another. I cannot be without a book with me, wherever I go. I have missed this obsession, this absolute need for story. I carve out time each day to sit and read or listen to an audiobook, armed with a warm cup of coffee. I cannot do without it, and I love it.
  4. Open Windows – There have been several days that were just cool enough to open up the windows and doors in the house. The cat sniffs eagerly and interestedly at outside through the open screens as I let the fresh air billow through the house, chasing open window to open door. Letting it refill the lungs of my home within and accenting it with the sound of leaves rustling or rain pattering on the world without.
  5. The Glow of Flame – Whether it is my candles, our fireplace, a cozy scene on YouTube, or our firebowl on the deck, I love the comforting glow of flame. In it, there is a tug back into days gone by, days before “hustle” became the watchword of our society. Nights of quiet conversations, drifting imaginations, and gently-working hands. For me, flame draws me to calmness, to burn slowly, take my time, and consume what I need in order to glow.

Once again, I don’t have any profound lessons that I have learned this month or secrets to impart, really. All I have is what I have enjoyed and how it has filled my soul. From the quiet everyday to a brand-new adventure that we experienced as a family during Fall Break, and I’m realizing that the soul-filling was happening even more than I realized at the time. I am really, really thankful for that. As we have slipped from October into November, moving from Spooky Season to that of Gratitude and Thanksgiving, I hope that we can keep an eye out for the things we cherish, for those things that make us glow, even if the flame is small. The sun is still there, after all, even if it is watery and weak behind the clouds. It’s still there.

And so are we, Friendly Readers. We are still here. May this autumn continue to stretch and those moments of slowing down, cozying up, and feeding our glow continue.

Even in Those Dark and Messy Places

Leave a comment

My favorite children’s book about God is It Will Be Okay by Lysa TerKeurst. I have lost track of how many times I have read (and cried over) this book to my beloved child (and to myself) or how many times I have used its words to reassure them, “It will be okay, Little Seed.”

In the story, a little seed and a little fox become friends, living simple, happy lives in the farmer’s dusty shed and spending every day together. One day, the farmer comes along and takes Little Seed away for planting. He reassures Little Seed, as he presses it into the dirt, that he has a plan for it. Little Fox goes looking for Little Seed, remaining by their friend’s side in that dark and messy place, reminding them that they had not been abandoned. “It will be okay, Little Seed.” The Farmer had a plan.

When things get hard in life now, I often find myself repeating those lovely reassurances:

“It will be okay, Little Seed.”

“The Farmer is good and the Farmer is kind and He is always watching over us, even when we don’t know it.”

When my dear young Hero is frustrated with friend-drama at school: “It will be okay, Little Seed.”

When I am exhausted from life, I gently remind myself that “the Father is good and the Father is kind”.

It will be okay.

It may not be okay right now. This moment may be painful or heavy. But it will be okay. You have not been abandoned, and “Ugh” is still a prayer (Coffee with Jesus).

Luke 6:21b says, “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”

Matthew 5:4 likewise assures us, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

In His goodness and kindness, God has placed people in your life who will be that help, that comfort, that watching over. People who will also hear your “Ugh!” prayer and surround you with their love and support in those dark and messy moments. They are there, I promise.

You are not alone.

You have not been abandoned.

It will be okay.

Yearning for Golden Days

Leave a comment

I find myself hoping and praying for an early, long autumn. I want those crisp, cloudy, golden-bronze days. The bright sunlight with the blazing blue-tile sky, pinioned by red and gold trees. I want the air perfumed by vanilla, cinnamon and apple, warm and sharp and sweet. I’m longing for the pull and draw to prep and store and cozy down for winter, to make my spaces ones of comfort and rest.

I have found myself more and more drawn to fall as I grow older, falling in love with that twilight era of the seasons, the drawing down to a time of dormancy and rest. I love wrapping myself and my dear ones up in the comfort of cozy clothes, amenities, scents, and food. The soothing of flames in a fireplace, candles, or a fire bowl. The compression of piles of sweaters, sweatshirts, and blankets — the safety of their weight. I love filling my spaces with comforts where one can breathe and relax. I love that sense of warmth and home that fall helps me create, the mental and emotional preparations for rest.

I have become a creature of hygge, a devotee of comfort and care, a believer that without rest there is no strength, no hustle without boundaries, no successful growth without periods of dormancy. I long for those days of savoring light and warmth as it begins to leech from the world, storing that glow and glory within myself to carry me and mine through the heavy, cold silence of winter.

When reading Becky Chambers’s Monk and Robot series and learning about Sibling Dex, a tea monk of Allalae, the God of Small Comforts, I felt incredibly seen. Dex is devoted to providing comfort and holding space for people who need a listening ear and kindly comfort. I know my desire and purpose in life and was touched to see its essence lived out in this character and their desire to share commiseration and consolation with others. Eventually, Dex feels drawn to leave their comfort zone for something greater, and, in that process, they must be reminded that they, too, still need the benefits of solace and rest.

This has been my work of the last few years: making sure that I provide comfort and succor for myself as much as I do for others, because I am in as much need of it as they are. I have worked at setting boundaries for myself in my work, holding space for rest and refreshment in my off hours. It has gone a long way to helping my mental and physical health a great deal, I do believe. Comfort–and all the other beauties that Autumn represents and brings– have done me good and will do me good. And all say amen to it.