It was a moonless night. Our group shuffled through patches of crusted snow, trying not to slide on the slipshod shoveled walkways up to the front door. The row of tiny apartments located on the sadder side of town stood unfriendly and unwelcoming. There was no warm glow coming from inside; no festive Christmas wreath or light-up reindeer stood on the front lawn. They just looked empty, barren, bereft. But there was still a reason to sing.
Winter had just given birth to the splendor of spring and the notion of swapping my thick knits for lighter layers was an exciting one. I had also been a mama for a full year and felt the need for a little polish and poise in my wardrobe and appearance.
My fingers glided over the small, wooden jewelry box, tracing the cluster of painted florals that graced the top. I noticed one of the hinges was broken, but that didn’t stop me from gingerly lifting the lid to peek inside to see what treasures lay within.
The sun was thinking of setting, so I trundled my way across the field to sit and behold its glory. It had been a whirlwind of a day, and — to be completely honest — I just needed a couple of minutes to regroup, pray, and refocus my mind and heart on truth before doing the next thing on my list for that busy day.
I have a royal fascination for … royals. Lords and ladies, kings and queens — I love good, old-fashioned pomp and circumstance. I was the girl who was enthralled with Anastasia in my growing up years, and I may or may not have all of Queen Victoria’s diaries downloaded on my Kindle. With a recent royal wedding, I refrained from setting my alarm early to catch the details, but I thoroughly enjoyed snippets of the ceremony later on … when I was intrigued by a detail in the ceremony that deeply resonated with me.
There’s just something about a new year unfurling before us in unblemished beauty that propels us toward making a list of goals and resolutions … new things that will keep us focused and excited as we purpose to invest in what matters most.
The long-anticipated day arrived…
Bedtime stories were a highlight of my childhood…
For a moment, I studied the beauty that stood before me. The feathery brushstrokes, the pastel hues, the way light and movement were perfectly expressed on the canvas…