The memory is now vague, but I retain two things from the day in a hard chair next to my mother’s at a conference paid for by her, gleaning the late author/speaker’s wisdom: (pulling the thread here on the gist of what she said, in my 2025 words), you can’t do everything, so do what you do best and ask for help with the rest; there is a difference between entertainment, which pleases the host, and hospitality, which honors God and is about others.
Time and experience have erected a few pillars around me. There is Barnes’ love of hospitality; I could never get enough of it were it not for the realities of time, money, energy and opportunity. Traditionalist, romantic, nostalgic … I have been called and resisted all these tags, but concede they are who I am, so I’ve put beautiful fairy lights up and down this pillar. I am Charles Dickens’ carol: “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.” The Juliet Rome shop at Glenwood Antique Mall is a stage for rediscovering and treasuring what previous generations loved and inviting others to give it play in our homes today.
There is the pillar that looks like loving God and making Him known. I haven’t had the courage to be very good at this but have completed a new manuscript I hope might find a home. Back to Emilie’s legacy and admonition, it will take agency—help differently gifted than I—that helps me to be brave. I did write a Christmas story for our little ones about a very big, very old, very yellow dog named Annie; I am not shy about loving very little people. And J. said something a few days ago that has filled my imagination for their next story.
And finally, there is the pillar of acceptance of important things. I’ve brought a stonemason to this pillar in my mind and covered it with cottonwood limestone. It is by far the most precious of the strengths holding up my very little heart. It says to me when I lack courage that He is God, and I am not. He has put a bit of Himself in me to give something to those I love and maybe, if I am fortunate, a stranger in my path. I will never be anything more important than His. I believe Emilie Barnes, had I ever known her company over a cup of tea, would have said this most-beautiful pillar is one to rest on.
Happy New Year! It’s a wonderland of white outside, and the snow continues to fall. To my French toast batter of eggs, half and half, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla, I just added the fresh zest of a whole orange. It has made all the difference.
