Category: Faith

(Plus, a cookie recipe.)

The table is a sacred space, offering more than food.

It is where a family bonds after a long day, sharing trials and troubles, hopes and laughter. It is where we bring others not of our blood into our family for the time. It is the beating heart of Christmas in the home. Those who sit around it hear magic woven over a meal, born of memory and passed through generations.

When we share the table with the ones God gifted to us, time and distance begin to blur, and we enter something greater than ourselves—something of the eternal.

When I was a child, I listened wide-eyed to the tales told around our Christmas table. One of my grandfathers played in a country bluegrass band during the Great Depression. My other grandfather mapped enemy troop movements from a plane over the Pacific during World War II. Two brothers ran into each other in newly liberated France after months of wondering if the other was alive. My great-grandmother defied all convention at the turn of the century, eschewing marriage until much later in life and working as both a boardinghouse keeper and full-time nurse.

Their stories shaped my view of the world and who I wanted to be. We share stories of those who came before us, often unaware of how their choices made us who we are. Those same people, only met through others’ memories, sat around the Christmas table sharing stories of the ones who came before them. Every story connects to every other story.

The meal we share often carries stories and history of its own. My grandmother’s dressing recipe came from her mother, and from her mother before that—at least five generations sat together over the same dish that I make for my family now. Whether using an old recipe or trying something new, the Christmas table facilitates conversation just as delicious food bonds people through shared pleasure. It is another of God’s good gifts to us.

The most beautiful part is that this all happens around the celebration of the greatest story ever told—a story that we are all living out right now.

Sometimes, though, the Christmas table is not a place of reminiscing and sanctuary. For those of you who are dreading the stories to be told around your table, whose family relationships are tense or broken, or whose family has passed away, I stand with you in spirit. My parents and many beloved relatives are gone now, and the ache is pronounced at Christmas. I am praying for you to feel an extra measure of comfort this year. (Feel free to email me privately if you would like specific prayer about this, and I will lift you up.)

No matter our background or wounds, God can make a new story from the memories in our hearts or the fragments in our hands. With His help, it can be fuller and more beautiful than we could have imagined, and one we delight in passing on to those who come after us.

I want to leave you with a small Christmas gift, something our family enjoys every year. This easy gingerbread cookie recipe is a staple at the Booth house. I found a similar recipe many years ago and tweaked it until I had it the way we prefer—soft, with ample spice. My boys decorated the batch below.

Merry Christmas, from my story to yours.

Soft Gingerbread Cookies

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 ¹⁄₂ teaspoons baking powder
• ³⁄₄ teaspoon baking soda
• 1 tablespoon ginger, plus another tiny pinch
• 1 ³⁄₄teaspoons cinnamon
• ¹⁄₄ teaspoon ground cloves
• 6 tablespoons butter (salted)
• ³⁄₄ cup dark brown sugar
• 1 large egg
• ¹⁄₂ cup molasses
• 2 teaspoons vanilla
• In a small bowl, whisk together all dry ingredients.
• In a large bowl, beat butter, brown sugar, and egg on medium speed until well blended.
• Add molasses and vanilla and continue to mix.
• Mix in dry ingredients until blended.
• Let dough stand at room temperature for at 2 hours. (I have chilled it before if I won’t be able to get back to it after 2 hours, and it works fine, too. The only difference is that it seems to make the dough a bit drier.)
• Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
• Place dough on a lightly floured surface and roll to about 1/4-inch thick.
• Cut out cookies and space 1 1/2-inches apart on a baking sheet.
• Bake for 8-10 minutes.
• Allow the cookies to stand until firm enough to move to a wire rack.

Once cooled, decorate with a powdered sugar glaze or royal icing.

Royal Icing:

• 1 ½ cups powdered sugar
• 2 tablespoons warm water
• ½ tablespoon light corn syrup
• 1/8 teaspoon vanilla (or almond, depending on what type of cookies you’re making)
• Stir well, until you’re able to pour a spoonful out into the bowl and it smooths back into the mixture in ten seconds.

 Enjoy!

Beyond the Writing Playlist—Songs for the Soundtrack of Our Lives

Most writers have a playlist for their works in progress. We covet songs that get us in the zone, ease us into the characters, or represent the themes of the piece—music that “makes” our stories. A writer’s playlist isn’t unlike the music that infuses our real lives. What if we each have our own soundtrack?

If you had to pick the top songs that represent who you are, seasons you have gone through, or events that made you, you, what would you choose? If you’ve never thought of your musical tastes as a window to your soul and life story, consider it. If this sounds far-fetched, stay with me.

I have a specific playlist for when I write in the Rensong series. Each POV character has their own tracks, and the styles run from Scottish Gaelic to epic orchestral to hard rock. Much of what I listen to is instrumental, but still encompasses my characters so well that if I find myself having trouble getting in the character’s head, or finding their voice, I play one of “their” songs and I am back where I need to be with them. The music varies with story beats, as well, like having a soundtrack to a movie.

My niece-by-heart takes this to a level I’ve never seen before. She has written several novels and composed original songs for her characters—even recording and performing them at local events. It’s every bit as awesome as it sounds, and I can’t wait until she’s a published author.

Just as a writer will listen to a certain song while writing a character fighting for her life or walking with a love interest, so we have music that we could probably link to events in our lives. Maybe you were in worship, at a concert or alone in the car, and a song pierced your heart with new awareness and sense that you were part of something bigger, greater—part of a larger story. Perhaps it ministered to you in a time of grief, giving strength and hope.

A year after my mother died, my oldest son was born with significant health issues that required him to stay in the hospital for almost a month. At the same time, my father had a devastating health crisis. My body did not recover well from the birth, but I still had to be everything I needed to be to both at once. It was an incredibly painful time, and I knew I couldn’t get through it all on my own strength.

Each day began with the agony of a broken heart, but God gave me a song. A few days into it, Matthew West came out with “Strong Enough.” The line that kept repeating, reminding me to lean on God’s strength, was, “I don’t have to be strong enough.” During the following years that saw both healing and further brokenness, when I was forced to face ghosts of my past and lay down my writing for a prolonged season, that song stayed with me. It became part of the soundtrack to my life story, exemplifying pain, purpose, and provision.

I have a song for when I begged God to rescue me from deep rebellion in my youth, a song from when I fell in love with my husband, a song that represents the vision we have for our family, and on and on. Recognizing the music of our lives helps us look back and see how we’ve grown and what we’ve overcome—or still must overcome.

In Scripture, most of the Psalms are David’s life song. From his young shepherd days glorifying God on a gentle hillside, to extolling God’s protection in battle, to repentance for horrific sin, David’s songs became the life song of a nation for centuries.

If my novel is published, I cannot help but wonder if some of my writing playlist makes it to my life song soundtrack. I can only imagine being able to say, “And this is the song for when I signed my first contract.” Ah, such dreams.

Do you have songs that have come to you at certain times of your life, just when you needed them? Have certain songs become a part of you and your life story? Or, just for fun, if you had to create a playlist to represent your life, what songs would you choose?