This date will always be one of those turning point days on the calendar — where much of my life can be remembered before something happened, and after something happened. That something is the death and home-going of my dear husband Michael. He died eleven years ago today, 4,019 days ago to be more precise, and it brings me such peace and joy to think of him. Such gratitude.

Michael died of a massive ischemic stroke after years of walking through the trials and sorrows of Parkinson’s Disease. He had been a vital and active man, and that diagnosis was of course, ultimately a devastating one.

This photo, which is very precious to me, was taken 2 1/2 days before he was escorted to heaven. It was his last known smile, a wondrous gift to us, his family. The nurses at the hospital called Michael’s stroke and the damage it brought to his brain “the velvet hammer,” because he didn’t suffer pain, and because death within four to seven days was certain. They knew this by what the CT scan revealed, and we realized that his consciousness would be fading each day as he got closer and closer to his departure.

By the third day after Michael’s stroke, he was near a coma, unable to respond to us at all, or to any medical stimulus the neurology staff applied. But two times, two glorious times, he smiled at us… and one time with great effort he sobbed and wailed, when God allowed his still very healthy spirit to rise from his body’s dying and show us he could indeed still hear and feel. He did this when two dear friends, Chuck and Sally Haavik, came to pour out their love and read Psalm 91 to him, and also when I arrived alone on the morning he was to be brought home for the last time.

I was in nearly constant quiet tears, and as I walked into the hospital I kept praying, “Lord, please let me connect one more time with Michael before you take him. One more time, please. Let him feel my love and presence.” And when I went to his bedside and rubbed his chest and bent down and whispered his name, declared my love for him again, he smiled.

And twelve days ago, Michael’s only sibling Pat died. She too had suffered with illnesses that made life so hard for her. I remember how Michael’s eyes would fill with tears when we merely spoke of Patty and/or prayed for her and her husband Joe. He loved her deeply, which moved me so much because my own two older brothers did not love me. It was such a blessing to see brother and sister care about each other. This picture below was taken probably 20+ years ago.

So much has happened in my life since Michael moved on ahead. How grateful I am that the Lord Jesus saw us through our tough times and made us happy we married each other. My whole existence would have been vastly different had God not brought Michael and me together. To be married to a man who truly loves and trusts Jesus Christ is a priceless gift. Neither of us walked out our faith perfectly of course, but there is no one else I would rather have bowed my head in prayer with, than my Michael.

He prayed fervently. He prayed with tears, with great faith. With compassion and humility. I am beginning to see now what sacred times those were.

I’ve said this before, but it becomes more true the older I get. As these eleven years have passed I don’t ever think of my life getting further away from Michael, with thousands of days between us. Rather, I think now that each day I wake up, I am one day closer to being with him again. Not in the marital sense, because we know that life in heaven will be way beyond earthly joys. But to see him again as the very essence of who he was created by God to be. To hear his voice, to see those hands (which on earth worked tirelessly to provide for our family) now pointing to what he might want to show me in heaven, to watch those strong legs lead me to my Savior, to see that toothy smile of joy…. that would be heaven.

I have been paying attention to the church feast day and season of Epiphany for the first time in my life. It has been beautiful and even thrilling to study and read about it, and direct my heart and thoughts toward what the Magi went through to get to Jesus. It is estimated that they traveled at least 500 miles from Persia to Bethlehem, and possibly up to 1000 miles, most likely on camels. We assume there were three wise men because we know they brought three gifts to the infant Jesus — gold, frankincense and myrrh. But we don’t know for certain that there were three of them. What is known is that they were learned Gentile men who were intent on worshiping the newborn King, announced to them by a special star. And that in spite of what the brooding King Herod told them to do, they left by another way after presenting their gifts and worshiping Jesus.

And it has long been taught by the Church that gold was to signify that Jesus was a King, frankincense was given because it stood for worship and meant Christ was the heavenly deity (actually fully God, fully human), and that myrrh was given as a sign of Jesus’s future burial. I also read that myrrh was a medicinal, healing balm, and it foretold that Jesus would be (and is) the healer of our ills.

In one of my morning readings in a devotional where the writer isn’t credited, I read this:

“What then, is the gold that a Christian could place before Christ as a babe? The gold of a Christian…refined by fire mentioned in Revelation chapter 3, verse 18, is love. How do we obtain love? We purchase love with love itself — it is by loving that we accumulate love! Provided that he/she is capable of offering the pure gold of love of neighbor, the Christian can add to it — without being a liar — the frankincense of prayer: a life of prayer that ascends toward God as a sweet-smelling offering, because it is not mixed with hypocrisy.

But the incense of our prayers remains fleeting without myrrh, in other words, without our communion in the passion and death of Jesus. The myrrh in the life of a Christian consists of his/her sufferings, sacrifices, and death, offered…for the glory of God and the salvation of the world.” (Note: this is not saying that anyone’s sufferings, sacrificial living or death saves the world — these things can be offered to the Lord, used for His purposes if He wants, to speak to others and lead them to the salvation that comes by the death of Christ).

Oh my, I thought. I am not very loving. I could probably find hypocrisy if I dug a little deeper. And while I spend time in prayer every day, I am not where I want to be on that deep and mysterious journey of prayer. And when I suffer? I don’t remember very often to hand it over to the Lord, who can make anything beautiful that is given to Him. And sacrifices, which are the true sign of a lay-down-your-life kind of love, are not a huge part of my daily to-do lists.

As I read through this again and again, it came to me like my own kind of epiphany: Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh are what the I want to give to the Lord this coming year. And probably all the years after that, however long I have left on this earth.

The pure gold of real love of God and neighbor…. that is the gift I want to give Him, yet I cannot, without a thousand mercies and graces.

The beautiful frankincense of a life of prayer…. not just a time of prayer, but a life of prayer. I have been seeking after this for a long time, and as I place myself before Jesus each morning in the dark, I ask Him to make the rest of my life one of prayer. I am not able without Him, but I know I’m praying His perfect will to ask this, day after day.

And myrrh… that somehow, miraculously (and I truly mean it would have to be a miracle of God), whatever hardships and sacrifices are to come to me as I age and move toward my end here, could be used of Him in some way. That I could be what my last name suggests, and bring balm and healing and help to someone, even if only by prayer.

I look at these attributes that gold, frankincense and myrrh could point to, and it might be laughable because I’m not being falsely humble when I say I’m not even close to living this way. But I’m still alive, there’s still time. I love Jesus and desire to love Him more fully and deeply. He can do miracles today.

It has been a long time since I’ve chosen a focus word for the coming year, as has been common in recent times. But for 2026, I think I have three words: Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh.

I pray God will make me different than I am now — I want to genuinely love Him and others, I want to live a life of prayer, and I want to nevermore cause pain and hurt feelings to anyone, but to humbly bring His healing and hope, to suffer well, trusting Him with every part of my life.

We had a really nice Christmas this year, and I hope you did too. When I was a little girl I wanted a few really nice presents, and I wanted to be able to go outside and ride my bike. Growing up in Southern California, that was almost always a given. If it rained it was an especially good Christmas, and my mother would let us burn our wrapping paper in our living room fireplace, the one time it was used each year.

Sixty years later, I don’t care about really nice presents (although I certainly received some), and instead I want peace and goodwill and a bit of quiet joy as we gather together.

On Christmas Eve we went to Jeremy and Carolyn’s for lasagna, panzanella, appetizers, Dairy Bars and spicy molasses cookies. We sat in their lovely living room with a fire crackling in the hearth, and sang a few carols as Jeremy and Elijah played their guitars and Margaret’s boyfriend played the piano.

On Christmas morning we gathered at Chris and Sharon’s, and enjoyed a potluck brunch, which is our custom. There was baked French toast, piles of bacon and sausage links, a coffee cake, democracy dip with fresh vegetables, beverages and various Christmas bars and cookies. I brought my usual sausage egg casserole, and Carolyn brought a delicious green salad with homemade vinaigrette. We leisurely opened presents, the little kids played with Legos, the cousins had white elephant gifts they swapped each other for with rolls of dice, and everyone grazed all day on the buffet spread.

Earlier in the week Sharon, Carolyn, Sara and I met at The Merryweather Inn for a lovely Christmas tea that Sharon arranged for us. We had scones and clotted cream, leek soup, exotic teas, and various bars. The inn is stunning and it was a wonderful way to spend some time with my beloveds. I call them The Blood in my Veins.

Today I’m listening to an audiobook I’m not enjoying yet. I’ve been in a wonderful national book club called Well-Read Mom for two years now, and this month’s book is Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I had high hopes since I’ve read his Les Miserables three times and loved it, but this one…. so far it is an absolute slog for me. I’m hoping it gets better. Most of the selections in Well-Read Mom have been worthwhile, even if some are quite difficult.

Before I got out of bed at 4:00 a.m. this morning my cell phone delivered an alert from the National Weather Service about a coming snowstorm. Beginning tonight or early tomorrow morning, five to eight inches of snow is predicted. I’m always happy for a good snowfall, because I’m a home body and getting snowed in feels so cozy. The below zero temps will descend after the snow goes, and I am not a fan of that part of a northeastern Minnesota winter.

What are you reading? Do you have New Year’s Eve plans? (me: zzzzz)

I want my 2026 to be marked by prayer and peace. If you would like prayer feel free to leave a comment, and I will be happy to pray for you.

Warm wishes to all,

A few beautiful quotes attributed to St. Augustine:

“To fall in love with God is the greatest romance; to seek him the greatest adventure; to find him, the greatest human achievement.”

“There is no saint without a past, no sinner without a future.”

(Feniqo)

“The truth is like a lion; you don’t have to defend it. Let it loose; it will defend itself.”

“If God seems slow in responding, it is because He is preparing a better gift. He will not deny us. God withholds what you are not yet ready for. He wants you to have a lively desire for His greatest gifts. All of which is to say, pray always and do not lose heart.”

“If you believe what you like in the gospels, and reject what you don’t like, it is not the gospel you believe, but yourself.”

I’m getting ready to make this salad tomorrow, and I thought I would share the recipe. Another recipe! I’d be willing to guess that not many people have eaten a salad like this one. When I saw it prepared years ago on TV it did not sound good to me (too much parsley), but I took the host’s word for it and tried it. It’s super good. I adapted it from Amy Thielen’s fabulous recipe and my own changes are included below.

Parsley Salad with Toasted Almonds and Lemon

5 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons honey
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cups cold, cooked basmati rice
5 cups roughly chopped Italian parsley, with tender stems
1-1 1/2 cups whole raw almonds, skillet-toasted in 1 teaspoon butter, and roughly chopped
1/2 cup finely diced sweet onion, such as Vidalia
Zest of 1 lemon

Directions

Make the dressing right in the serving bowl: Combine the lemon juice, mustard, honey, pepper, salt and garlic in a large bowl and whisk to combine. Slowly add the olive oil, whisking until emulsified.

Add the parsley to the dressing and toss to combine. Add the rice, toasted almonds, onions and lemon zest, and toss well. As a side dish, this would serve about 6.

If you make it, let me know what you thought. I will make this again and again.

Now, I pray for every single person who’s reading these words today, that the Lord would help you, bless your family, remind you often of His mercy and love for you, bring healing and peace, and draw you closer to His beautiful self.

I’m asking Him to do the same thing for me.

I have loved blue cheese dressing since I first tried it at The Lyon’s Den restaurant in Covina, California, when I was about eight years old. Today I even like to go to restaurants based on their blue cheese dressing. A couple of good ones are Texas Roadhouse, Outback Steakhouse, and OMC (Oink, Moo, Cluck) in my town.

I’ve made a few batches at home over the years, and finally adjusted one I found online to be just what I like. I love a good Cobb Salad, and they’re so good with blue cheese dressing!

Best Blue Cheese Dressing

10 ounces blue cheese
¾ cup buttermilk
¾ cup sour cream
¾ cup mayonnaise
8 t. white vinegar
1 t. sugar
½  t. garlic powder
3/4 t. salt
Generous amount of fresh cracked black pepper to taste

Mash the blue cheese and buttermilk together in a bowl with a fork until the mixture resembles large-curd cottage cheese.

Stir in the sour cream, mayonnaise, vinegar, sugar and garlic powder until well blended. Add salt and stir well, then season with black pepper.

If you like it a bit more tangy, you could up the sour cream 1 T. at a time. The original recipe I messed around with was too tart for me, and I ended up using more mayonnaise than they recommended. This is the one I ended up with, and love the most. And it’s soooo good with steak, dipping veggies (raw or roasted), and for tossing a chopped salad in.

Let me know if you make it, and have a great week!

I am an early riser, and my day usually begins between 4:00 – 5:00 a.m. There are times when I wish I could sleep later, but for reasons only my brain knows, this is the time I wake and feel ready to begin the day. I love the rituals I’ve eased into as an older woman. The first thing I do is go potty. (That would be a ritual the entire human race partakes in, I’m guessing.) Then I click up the heat to 70 degrees, slide the curtains open in my bedroom that look out over Lake Superior, which can be seen in all its vastness once the trees across the street have let go of their leaves. If it’s summertime, then of course I don’t have the heat on yet, but we have long winters in Northern Minnesota so most of the time it’s heat I’m wanting. I walk to the kitchen in my L.L. Bean chickadee slippers, and microwave a long flannel dealy-bob filled with what smells like oat grains, because my neck is always cold and it’s so comforting to get back into bed with that wrapped around me. I pour a cup of Stok cold brew coffee with a little heavy cream in it, and walk back to my bedroom in the dark. Sometimes I light a beeswax candle on a tall dresser. I gather my devotional things and put them on the bed beside me, climb in, and press the wondrous button on a remote that makes my electric bed sit up a bit. If I’m not rushed, I might be given the grace to spend 1-2 hours reading, praying, crying, blowing my nose, writing in my journal, setting the sails for my day and giving thanks for about ten thousand things.

Then I think about brushing my teeth, getting dressed, starting my day. Laundry, dinner planning, errands, foster paperwork, and all the usual things I take such pleasure in doing. Right around this time is when I turn on some music on my bedroom Bose speaker. I usually play one song on repeat, sometimes for a couple of hours as I begin my day. I know exactly what song I’m supposed to play to nourish my soul, renew my mind, give me hope and elevate my thoughts. I don’t mean it’s only one song, I just know which song needs to go deeply into my inner being in the season of life I’m in at that time. I might play it every day for a week. I might play it every day for a month. Then another song might be what is needed. I just play it as long as I know God is using it in my life. Music is so powerful.

These days, this is the song I’m playing over and over and over. I’m sure most of you are familiar with it and I’ve mentioned it before on my little blog here. But this version is the one going deep into my soul, mind, and heart these days. These words say what I wish I could have said myself. I don’t view it as a Christmas song at all even though the video below is on Bob Bennett’s Christmas album. So if you listen, just take it in like it’s any day of the year. I put the lyrics below (I’ve also written them in my journal and I read them like a prayer) so you can see how beautiful they are.

Jesus Christ the Apple Tree

The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit, and always green
The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit, and always green
The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared with Christ the apple tree.

His beauty doth all things excel
By faith I know, but ne’er can tell
His beauty doth all things excel
By faith I know, but ne’er can tell
The glory which I now can see
In Jesus Christ the apple tree.

For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasures dearly I have bought
For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasures dearly I have bought
I missed of all; but now I see
‘Tis found in Christ the apple tree.

I’m weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest awhile
I’m weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest awhile
Under the shadow I will be
of Jesus Christ the apple tree.

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive;
This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive;
Which makes my soul in haste to be
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.

(By Rev. Richard Hutchins)

Are there any songs you listen to on repeat? What do you think of this one?

God be with you all today,

Lord, it’s like you…

–Removed dark glasses
–Opened a door to a new universe
–Expanded my soul
–Awakened my mind
–Sat me at a new table with miles of feast before me
–Removed calluses from my heart
–Unveiled the scriptures anew
–Refracted the lenses of my eyes
–Plugged me in to new power
–Filled my lungs with fresh air
–Sensitized my hands and fingers to grasp some of You
–Put my feet on a beautiful path
–Confirmed my vocation
–Brought real help to my side
–Supplied me with a myriad of tools I’ve never had
–Infused me with hope and soberness and awe

Thank you.

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
And the fact that I think I am following your will
Does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you,
Does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this,
You will lead me by the right road, though
I may know nothing about it.
Therefore I will trust you always.
Though I may seem lost in the shadow of death
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
And you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Amen.

~~Thomas Merton

I like occasionally reading online lists of things most people like or even love, that a small minority of other people dislike or even hate. I’ve seen spiders, Brussels sprouts and dining alone on the hate list, with dissenters in the minority.

For a quick example, I can think of three things I’m not a fan of, that most of the world seems to love.

The first is Facebook. I won’t go into all the reasons I find it a waste of time and completely unhelpful. The second will place me in a tiny category of people: I am not a fan of the wildly famous woman singer who has been dating a famous athlete. Her lyrics and messages are not things all the vulnerable, impressionable little girls of the world should be filling their ears, minds, hearts and souls with. Does that sound judgmental? I guess it must, but I’m old now and I’m not sorry for my opinion.

The third popular thing is hanging freshly laundered clothes, sheets and towels outside to dry. My husband thinks laundry dried outside in the open air smells wonderfully fresh, and the thought of sleeping on air-dried sheets makes him happy. He may be right about the fresh smell, but all I can think of regarding hanging things out to dry is the dirt and pollen that floats through the air and gets trapped in the damp, newly laundered items.

Have you ever had a patio chair or table outside on your porch or deck? How long does it take for it to form a layer of dirt and dust on the surface? In my northerly spot in the country the air is pretty clean, and it takes less than a day. I wipe down my patio chairs and table with a damp cloth when we enjoy them, and the residue on them from being in the “fresh air” is alarming. I can wash my windows and have a fine layer of dirt on them in a matter of days. And the things we can’t see with the naked eye? Millions of pollen spores fly on the breeze and I don’t want them on my sheets.

People with allergies or sensitivities to mold or pollen might not realize that their newly washed, air-dried sheets are full of microscopic attachments they never considered. I dry my sheets and towels on high heat in my dryer inside my house and hope I have kept unwanted bits to a minimum.

Okay that sounded like a grumpy rant, and I guess it was. But that leads me now to wanting to know what is on your list?

What is something everyone seems to love, and you kind of hate?

Or, what is something everyone else seems to hate, and you kind of love? (This one for me would be dining alone, being alone, taking a trip alone, and sleeping alone.)

Hoping to be cheerful another day,