Won't you set out a traveler's lantern

Just a small light that they might see

To guide them back home before they wander

Into the dark billows that crash on the sea

~Dwight Yoakam (Lyrics from his song, Traveler's Lantern)

 "We had a beautiful year." That's how my friend began her Christmas letter. I wondered how the narrative would read. Life had thrown her for some loops over the year, which she didn't deny. I read on. I could almost hear her singing above the din of disappointment and heartbreak, her voice exuberant with thanksgiving to God. All her children were reading. The family had meaningful encounters with horses at a nearby stable. She and her husband had made gains in their careers. Their faith in God remained hale. Robust. 

Earlier in the year, this same friend had taken time to write me a personal letter. I knew she had little free time. I knew she had her hands full with all the kids, from baby to teen. I knew some of the challenges she faced were harder than mine. Yet she is one of those people who invites transparency without judgment. I wrote to her about some of the anxiety and fear gnawing at my heart. The "what ifs" of life, to put my angst in a nutshell. She wrote back, her words filled with "listening."  Her words like a traveler's lantern that helped me see. That cracked open my isolation. That helped me not give up.

The forecast calls for rain all day. I don't mind. I sit here in the glow of my computer screen and the fragrance of a lit candle. I think of all of you who come to the site. I appreciate your correspondence, your presence.  Like my friend, your words are like traveler's lanterns to me. Surely I pray all of you a wonderful new year as you make your way forward in 2025. May you have an expanded knowledge that God is your help. May you sing in the shadow of His wings. May your soul cling to Him. May you know and experience that His right hand upholds you and keeps you from the dark billows that crash on the sea. May you have a beautiful year.