So, I come back to my parents’ house from shopping on December 26th and announce that I have secured for them the Best Anniversary Present ever.

They seem skeptical.

I unveil the treasure.

They express displeasure. Even, perhaps, a small measure of disgust.

Ingrates.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask. “You love candles?!”

They roll their eyes.

The rest of my time at their home, I kept arranging this purple beauty amongst various Christmas-displays to convince them how charming and natural their gift blends into their existing decor. (See pics below.)

They refuse to see the beauty.

When I left for Minneapolis, they insisted I take my big ol’ candle back home with me. I couldn’t fit it within my luggage (not to mention the dangerous possibility of damage to this exquisite beauty!) so I had to leave it in their home. Temporarily. I left it sitting on their bed, so they would be reminded of me.

Soon, I will reclaim this treasure.

Perhaps we’re a little liberal with the word ‘miracle’ in my family’s house around the holidays.

The first Christmas miracle was that my brother Matt ate a pecan roll without first scraping off the pecans. “IT’S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!” I proclaimed. Then Eileen explained that in the previous night’s dinner she also ate some normally unpalatable food, thus securing the second miracle. After that, pretty much volunteering to wash the breakfast dishes was a Christmas miracle.

Christmas morning, Matt spelled out his name’s initials in candy canes and decided it was so damn elegant looking that this was truly a Christmas miracle. One by one, each of us spelled out our initials with candy canes and claimed a Christmas miracle. It was quite a miraculous household.

Grandma Hemmer was a powerful figure in my upbringing. She lived in town and we’d see her four times a week. She made cookies for us every Monday. She hated being called, Granny. And I still miss her, 17 years after she died.

I never met Grandpa Hemmer. He died long before I was born. When I was very young, I had a dream about him. In the dream, I was sitting on the floor next to him wearing pajamas, holding onto his leg. He was rather solumn in stature, but his face was warm and loving. I looked up at him and he beamed a soft smile towards me. That’s the entire dream. I remember seeing a photo of him later and thinking, ‘Oh, that’s the guy from the dream.’ I am not sure if I had seen photos of him before night or he visited me in a dream and then I recognized him in a photograph.

A couple pictures taken during Christmas’ past. I love making gingerbread cookies. The smell in my kitchen reminds me of Christmas in Huntley with my family.

The house of Edmond

A friend of mine is listening to his ‘inner boy.’ He told me that for years he fiercely ridiculed the idea of an “inner child” ’cause it just seemed waaaaaaaaaay too-New Agey for him. But in discocvering the power of his inner-warrior, he uncovered a wounded little boy who needed to be heard, in order to be healed.

He’s not ridiculing the idea any more.

Recently, his little boy communicated that he wanted to draw, color, and paint - to draw whatever he felt like creating and not be criticized, but instead for it to be honored and cherished. My friend quit an evening class to create time for weekly drawing and coloring. He’s listening to his inner voice and somehow through this drawing activity, he’s repairing a damaged relationship with himself.

I wanted to support him, so I promised that if he’d give me one of his drawings I’d proudly put it on my fridge.

Upstairs in the dormer. I sit in my big chair and wake up to the day. Sometimes read a bit before getting dressed. You can see why I have a hard time leaving for work in the morning.

Isn’t Photoshop hilarious? A media artist/coworker created this after I asked him to turn a color photo into black and white for a conference at which I was speaking. I think this would make a lovely book jacket photo.

My friend Andrew created this ornament, by hand. It’s gorgeous and I love it on my Christmas tree (well, when I bother to put one up). It reminds me of his attention to detail and incredible creativity.

This painting of the famous Biblical scene (Zacchaeus climbs a tree to catch a glimpse of Jesus) is possibly my favorite Bible story of all time. Hmm. There aren’t a ton of Biblical stories I actually *love* but this one is special, religious context aside.

I love the idea of this short but powerful man risking his entire reputation - and the superficial respect of his peers - to perform an act of faith. Can you imagine anyone in Congress doing something purposeful that would make them look foolish in front of the media? (Well, excluding various scandals…)

My friend, Joel Whitehead, painted it and gifted this incredible piece of work to me. Every time I stop and look at it, I am stunned.

If there were a fire in my house, I think this would be the first thing I grab. I love it. I love seeing it my home. I’d go visit in a museum, where, incidentally, most of Joel’s paintings belong.