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Advent 2025 ~ Home

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Week 2 ~ Home

As Winter breathes her cold blessing over us, showering us with snow and ice, the silvery white of it makes the dark night glow and spangles the daylight air with diamonds. As beautiful as that all may be, however, there is something that many may consider even more so: the inside of their warm domicile. As winter settles in and makes herself comfortable, we in turn snuggle deeper into our spaces–our apartments, our houses, our homes.

Is it the warmth alone, though, that makes these spaces home? 

This is a question that I recently posed to my middle-school students, my Heroes as I call them: “What makes a place home for you?” The answers I received were very interesting.

For some, home is simply the place they live, the house or city they currently occupy,  the familiar and everyday.

For others, home is someplace else: a camp or a grandparents’ house where they always have a good time.

For others still, home is no one place. Rather, it is anywhere that they feel loved, accepted, and comfortable. Sometimes that home is a person or group of people with whom they can always feel safe and utterly themselves. No need to be perfect or strong or the life of the party. Home is where they can simply be.

That last type of answer is the one that resonates the most for me. I did not learn until I went to college that home for me is not a place. When I went off to school, I came to the realization that, yes, I missed the people that I love, but, no, I did not really miss the area that I had grown up in. And this is still true. There are things about Indiana that I vastly prefer to my Caribbean beginnings, such as the changing of the seasons (and no hurricanes). But, on the whole, I have come to learn that what makes places feel like home is the people that they hold for me. People who love me and whom I love. People who accept me but challenge me in the same turn. People who welcome me with love and laughter and to be fully myself. People who share and encourage my faith. People recognize that, though I choose kindness and softness, I am not a weak flower. I am a being with light under her skin.

Home is where that light glows warm, safe to blaze bright and brilliant. Home is the presence of those who have helped me find and cultivate that light and my sense of self. And I thank God for that every day. Home is a beauty and peace of feeling, of knowing that, with these souls, I matter, am significant, and belong. 

I hope you find your home this Holiday season and are able to rest in its beauty, comfort, and peace.

Advent 2025 ~ Quiet

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Advent 2025

Week 1 ~ Quiet

December is only a week old, and Winter has arrived to wrap her frigid arms around our state. We have had a couple significant snowfalls already, with icy patches still left over from Monday night’s snow. And I am loving every moment of it!

Twenty-five years ago this winter, I discovered that there is no quiet so profound as that of snowfall and a world covered with a fresh, white blanket. I walked my college campus in the fluttery snowfall, astounded at how silent everything had become, no sound except for the crunch of my boots as I made my mark on a fresh, new world. I saw snow for the first time when I was nine years old, but that was all excitement, novelty, and play. I know for a fact that I didn’t appreciate this particularly beautiful aspect of winter at that time. Now, whenever the snow is falling, I try to step out onto the porch or into the doorway to listen as it hushes the world. I listen as it muffles the rush, quiets the hustle, and silences the busyness. We are forced to slow our cars, our steps, our plans. When we slow down, we can also quiet down.

I love the deep emptiness of snowfall-quiet, like the whole world is asleep and I alone am awake to witness its secret beauty. It softens the world, smoothing the rough edges and lines into graceful curves. The snow seems to gentle the harshness, reflecting even the light pollution back into the darkness in a starlight blue so we can see even in what should be the deepest of shadows. And isn’t that what we all need most in this season? Softness and light, gentleness and moments of stillness? Sometimes it makes me wonder if the “silent night” the songwriter describes is not indeed a night of moonlit snowfall.

In that snowy quiet, I am reminded that we are given a gift–the gift of Presence, where we are welcomed into Jesus’s arms and lap. A place of rest, reassurance, and recovery in the hollow of His presence and memory. That silent space where His love softens the edges of existence. As we move further into this Advent and winter season, may we slow down and submerge into the quiet. May we let it soften our moments, calm the crazy, and hold the precious close. Stand in the quiet, sink into the silence, and slow the rush. Maybe snowfall-quiet is here just so we can remember what it means to exist in heavenly peace.

What is Saving My Autumn Life

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Fall Romance Novels ~ I have fallen absolutely in love with Autumn-set romances and romantasies this year. Over my Fall Break week, as I healed from a wisdom-teeth surgery, Lyra Parish’s Fall I Want became everything to me. All I wanted to do was curl up in the recliner with my pumpkin blanket, a cup of coffee, and my cat Jack and read this heartwarming, sweet love story. Fall is my favorite season, and the warmth that exudes from these books is such a soul-soother. Also on my TBR this season are: Must Love Libraries and Libations by Maisy Magill, The Autumn Leaf Bookshop by Kay Michaels, Kindling by Bonnie Woods, and Uncharmed by Lucy Jane Wood.

Kpop Music ~ Thanks to a dear friend and the sheer golden enjoyment that is Netflix’s Kpop Demon Hunters, as well as my existence as a lifelong boyband girl, I have fallen in love with Kpop music. My particular group is Ateez. Their songs make me bounce and sing and smile, and that is always something I treasure. I love to sing, I love to dance, and I love when music makes my body so happy that I just have to bounce. It has been an absolute mood-saver throughout my healing process.

Fall-scented Candles ~ I always stock up on my fall candles, and my house constantly smells like pumpkin-something these days. It is part of my transference routine when I get home, lighting a candle before I head upstairs to change clothes. That way, when I get back downstairs to settle on the couch, the air is warm and sweetly-scented, and I know that I am home.

Romanticizing My Fall Wardrobe ~ I have begun reimagining my fall outfits: pairing sweaters and flowy skirts, cardigans and dresses, tights and over-the-knee socks with my ankle boots, over-the-knee boots with my jeans. A sunflower-crown headband here and a bow at my temple there, letting the lightning streaks in my curls shimmer and shine in the autumn sunlight. As I told a coworker, I am happily in my soft girl era, and I will not be taking questions or commentary on this issue. In my off hours, I am wrapped in warm, cozy comfies, sweet pumpkin slippers, and two of the softest, most deliciously comfortable blankets I have ever owned! I am hoping for a nice, long autumn to glory in.

Craving the Change (Again!)

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I have lingered in the longering days and now I am craving again. The meterologists say that it’s our first “false Fall” of the season, with temperatures starting to dip and mellow out. They say it won’t last, but I do not care if it is “false”. Gimme! Give me cooler days and much cooler nights. Give me fall-scented candles and cozy cuddles under blankets. Give me bonfires and fireplaces, flickering warm light in the soonering dark.

I have lingered and now I am craving change. I am craving the season when home becomes more and more the primary locale. I am craving the gathering in and cozying down to prepare for rest in the long dark of winter. I am yearning for the physical trappings of hygge, of shifting the decor of my home into warm sunset colors, tempting aromas, and comfy textures that encourage you to burrow in and snuggle down. I’m excited to add fall touches to my pastel classroom, a new shade of Autumn. I am looking forward to redressing my tree (which has stayed up all year, true to my word) with golds, bronzes, plums, and maroons, for pumpkins, sunflowers, and chrysanthemums to bloom all over my little hobbit hole.

I am itching for the shift, not only in season but in mindset. Autumn is for gathering together, for sharing time, love, smiles, and laughs. I want my home to warm and welcoming, smelling of sweet things that make you want to, yes, linger…stay. I miss and want my dear ones. I miss their hugs, laughs, and snuggles. I want nostalgic movies that we can all quote by heart and know every note of every song. I’m ready to live in my hoodies, bundle in my knits, wrap up in my shawls, and flounce about in my long flannel skirts.

I am ready for change. I am simping for slow. I am craving cozy.

Fall, you are welcome for as long as you want to stay.

What is Saving My Summer Life

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 June is done (uggggggh!), and I hate the idea that summer’s almost half over. But here is what is saving my life in these summer months.

  1. Dresses – I am a deep lover of flowy, graceful dresses. Stores like Altar’d State and JessaKae were absolutely made for my aesthetic, if not my wallet. Dresses have always helped me feel my glorious as a feminine figure. Over the past few years, I have leaned into my cottagecore joy with long, full skirts, gauzy sleeves, lots of ruffles, and all the pastels, lacing a romantic air through the most mundane of daily tasks: getting dressed. I recently cleared out several old dresses that were being kept more for nostalgia’s sake than actual wear, reminisced about how pretty they had made me feel, and then packed them up with a whispered blessing for the next girl who finds her glorious in them. Then I coordinated and organized my remaining dresses so my side of the closet is now a gorgeous riot of fluttery rainbow color. I’m still squee-ing about it!
  1. Reading/Books – I am continuing to gobble up stories as fast as I can. I feel bereft if I do not have something to read, to fill my mind with “voices and stories and friends as dear to me as any in the real world” (Little Women, 1994). So far this summer I have devoured seven books, mostly fantasies and historical fiction with a splash of romance for good measure. It is so fun to read things that are unserious and just for the pure enjoyment of the act. Last night, I laid in Spare Oom (my cottagecore-inspired space/guest bedroom), lying in the bed with my mother while she watched old reruns of Archie Bunker. I had my book, she had her show, and we were just laid there together in companionable silence, occasionally broken by one of us making a comment to the cat, who had of course made himself exceeding comfy (belly to the sky) between us on the bed. I have found myself more drawn to my books than my TV shows of late, content to sit in my bed or in the companion recliner in my husband’s den and just inhale story after story. Quite a few of the books I have read have been debut novels, and I am doing my best to make sure that I leave good reviews for those authors so they know how much I appreciate their work. As it is, I post on social media and tag them whenever available so they know just how their hard work is paying off and touching souls. I am also obsessed with pretty books, the ones with gorgeous covers, endpapers, illustrations, and beautiful sprayed/stenciled edges. They are works of art that simply cannot be overlooked. **Side note: if you ever want to give me a gift, give me a book with lovely, stenciled edges. I honestly do not care what the book is; that is utterly beside the point.
  1. Fans – I love to collect hand fans. Carved, lacy, silk, paper, small and soft, large and loud…it doesn’t matter. I love them! They are a beautiful nostalgia for the Sunday evenings when I would sit with my grandmother in church and she would fan me with her gorgeous lace fan or even (gasp!) let me hold it and fan myself. My collection started with a gift from my mother’s coworkers for my college graduation (a genuine fan from Hong Kong) and has just grown from there. I cannot pass up a pretty fan! Recently, I have started taking them everywhere with me. My bag or purse almost always has a fan in it. I even keep one in my desk drawer at work, just in case the unthinkable happens and my always-cold classroom crashes out. It also feeds into my love for the classic feminine aesthetic. Knowing me, my next collection will be parasols.
  1. Water – I hated drinking water as a kid; it tasted like nothing and therefore had no interest for me. Nowadays, through fervent re-conditioning of myself, I cannot cope without a cup of ice water close to hand. I will choose that over just about anything else when it comes to beverages, and I have finally discovered the truth to my mother’s lifelong claims that nothing can hit the spot like cold water. I now have my own collection of pretty tumblers and water cups so that, no matter where I am (home, work, gym, car), I have water close to hand. I am working hard to remember that I need to treat myself like the lovely flower I am and water myself regularly.

As we enter July, I really hope that you find some things that can help to save your life this summer. Things that give you hope and joy, even if they make sense to no one else but you. You deserve that. Always. Meanwhile, I’m off to be a public nuisance at the bookstore with my big-skirted dresses and fans.

For the Love of my Forties

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I recently became the “answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything”! In other words, I turned 42, and, once again, Jen Hatmaker was right!

I find that I am still fiercely in love with my forties. I cannot fully explain just why I love it so much, but I do believe that part of it is that there is a freedom that I feel in being in my forties.

A freedom to do as I want, to speak up for what is right, to enjoy what I enjoy without any need to explain myself to anyone.

A freedom to remove things from my balance beam that do not serve me or bring me joy.

I do not mean that I am avoiding hard work (I do plenty of that), only that I am practicing more discernment over how I am spending my energy and who/what I am spending it on. I do believe that it is helping my anxiety, thankfully. I only wish that we could see a direct correlation between laughter and its efficacy on one’s health. If it were so, I and several of my dear ones would be damn near medically perfect after a recent get-together. There was so much happiness, such a sense of joy and, for me, comfort in laughing belly-deep with some of my favorite people for hours. I shall definitely have to do that again and soon. It was simple, it was fun, and it was just what I wanted.

It was the most perfect celebration of a joyous birthday. I look forward to learning more and more as I go, for the love of my forties.

Lingering in the Lazy

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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!

The Precious Expanse of an Empty Page

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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)

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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.

The Blessing of Hygge

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It was quiet when I woke up — Husband was still asleep beside me, and neither Kiddo nor my mother had stirred out of their rooms yet. Not even the cat was at my door yet. So I decided to take advantage. I slipped out of the bedroom and downstairs for a much-needed hygge morning. I made some coffee, gathered my books, journals, and pens, put some comforting ambiance on TV, and slipped on a new, comfy sweater. Then I settled in to contemplate some simple but beautiful things.

I love the pen I have been writing with lately. It’s a Uniball Air, exhumed from the depths of one drawer or bag or another, and I have been re-discovering just how much I adore it! I don’t know what it is about the construction of these particular pens, but they feel so…dainty yet controlled. It reminds me of someone in China or Japan writing the most delicate characters with just the tip of their brush. Such control and skill! That’s what these pens feel like to me. It as though I am using the daintiest tool yet executing my writing with such elegance, though a different type of elegance entirely from, say, a fountain pen. Needless to say, I ordered more.

When the pen I am writing with feels beautiful, then the writing I do feels beautiful. When the writing I am doing feels beautiful, then I want to do it more. I love writing longhand and did it so often when I was younger, of course. I would fill notebook after notebook with my stories, all painstakingly handwritten. Nowadays, such a practice almost feels like an indulgence: taking that extra time to handwrite when the world is so often encouraging us to work faster, work quicker, do more. Handwriting takes time, it takes thought, and it takes effort…none of which can be rushed.

As the summer starts to wind down and the school year approaches (*digs a trench around myself*), maybe this is my sign to keep on slowing down. Maybe less, with focused intention and attention, is better than a lot. Maybe I need to be more aware of when I am trying to cram in more when what I and my students need is for me to slow down. So maybe I have accidentally stumbled onto a goal for this year, for myself as well for my classes: to slow down and focus on the dainty and the elegant points that might be missed if I rush onward.