Is There Light in the Dark? Yes!

 I haven’t seen the sun all week. The sky is covered in endless shades of gray. The early darkness settles in, and I slowly sink into my chair, feeling the weight of the day. I light a candle, and the soft, warm glow of the flame flickers gently on the table before me. 

A Moment of Stillness

For a moment, I just sit there, watching it dance in the quiet, the flame swaying ever so slightly with each breath of air. It’s a peaceful stillness. I could watch it for hours. You?

It brings to mind Jesus’ words from John 8:12: “I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows Me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” But more than that, I remember what He says in John 15:4: "Abide in Me, and I in you."

The Power of His Word

I open my Bible to read more, and I come across the story of Hanukkah, the festival of light, and how Jesus was challenged by the Pharisees in the temple: "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly." (John 10:24). He responds, "I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in My Father’s name testify about Me." (John 10:25).

In the stillness of the afternoon, I reflect on John’s beautiful words in his letter, words I’ve wanted to memorize for so long:

What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of Life— and the life was manifested, and we have seen and testify and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was manifested to us—what we have seen and heard we proclaim to you also, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. These things we write, so that our joy may be made complete. (1 John 1:1-4)

Wrestling with Doubt

These words are alive! They bubble with energy, offering me comfort, assurance, and light, especially when I struggle with intellectual doubts. I used to breeze past them, but not anymore. Now, I need the whole Bible to truly rejoice in God, my Savior. 

And that’s exactly what I do 🤗

Abiding in His Presence

Abiding in Him has become the source of my peace. When doubts arise, I focus on the One who has already spoken the truth and shown the way. God’s Word drowns out all other voices. “Whatever Jesus may be to others, to me He is, above all, God, praised forever!” 

—

😇 The final line is borrowed from C.H. Spurgeon.

A Christian Who Doesn’t Celebrate Christmas?

What do you call a Christian who doesn’t celebrate Advent or Christmas? Well, you’re looking at one. I’m that person. But before you gasp, let me clarify—I do love the cozy glow of lights during the dark winter months.

Two years ago, my husband gifted me a Hue lighting system. Yes, tiny little lights, and he even climbed up on a chair to hang them for me. (I know, the romance!) With a tap on my phone, I can change their colors. And when it’s 5 p.m. and already pitch black outside, I simply snap my fingers and voilà, instant glow. Behind the couch, there’s even a light strip—shining in the same cheerful hues as my string of lights. It's like I’m running my own personal light show. And the best part? These lights aren’t just for November and December—they shine year-round!

I get my love of twinkling lights from my mom, who used to say, “I must be like a magpie, drawn to shiny things.” I guess I’m following in her footsteps.

But back to Advent... and Christmas. I don’t celebrate either of them. I can’t focus my attention on just His birth, or spend so many days waiting for it. I am so blessed with Him, with who He is to me now, that I celebrate Him all year long. I read the Bible. I walk with Him. And honestly, I’m starting to think that’s my Advent calendar—one verse at a time, every day, all year. Often more, often a chapter, diving deeper. I love it so much. Well, I’m pretty sure the lights are on, even if the calendar’s a little… untraditional.

Secretly, I suspect my decision not to celebrate Christmas anymore is a reaction to the way Christmas was observed in the church I grew up in. You see, we Dutch have two Christmas days. And as an orthodox girl, I spent those days in church not once, not twice, but three times—because maybe, just maybe, Jesus would be born in the filthy stable of my heart. Maybe.

It wasn’t guaranteed, though. First, I had to discover just how filthy the stable was. Not casually, but in the proper, deeply introspective, spiritually approved way. And it had to be real. If the Holy Spirit didn’t lift the swaddling cloth and reveal the baby Jesus Himself, well, then He’d never be born in my heart. Christmas was essentially an intense “look inside yourself and find true guilt and brokenness” kind of day.

The Christmas tree? Forbidden. Tinsel and fairy lights? Out of the question. But as a child, I did receive a single orange and a book about a kitten named Marja at the elementary school Christmas party.

Which brings me to this question: could it be that, in rejecting Christmas entirely, I’ve thrown the baby out with the bathwater? Perhaps—at least partly.

And yet, it feels so freeing to let go of specific days, months, and rituals. To simply live in the joy of His presence every day. Or, as the song goes:

Give Me Jesus

In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus.

And when I am alone, give me Jesus.

And when I come to die, give me Jesus.

Refrain:

Give me Jesus,

You can have all this world,

But give me Jesus.

• All photos were taken by me at an earlier time.
• I write about my childhood and the church of my youth HERE.

When 'Abide' Found Me: Starting Early for 2025

Alright, so here we are. I’m doing it. Starting early. A whole month ahead of schedule, no less. You know that "One Word" challenge everyone does at the start of the year? Well, I didn’t join in. I scoffed at the idea, thinking, “I don’t need a word to define my year.” But now, as 2024 wraps up, I’ve realized – with a bit of surprise – that the word found me. And I can’t help but laugh. It’s a little embarrassing, honestly. 

I didn’t pick it. It picked me.

That word? Abide.

Let’s be honest: Abide isn’t exactly the most glamorous or trendy word out there. It doesn’t have the sparkle of “shine” or the punch of “growth.” It’s just... stay. But somehow, in its simplicity, it’s exactly what I needed.

Resting Under God’s Wings

The word came to me when I least expected it, during a season of church wounds, navigating the painful aftermath of my hyper-Calvinistic upbringing. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this word, abide, was exactly what I needed. It gave me permission to take a step back, to rest under God’s wings, and to stop rushing. I didn’t have to fix everything right away. I didn’t have to know what was coming next. It was about staying in His presence, trusting that He had me, and that would be enough.

Funny enough, abide became my anchor, pulling me back whenever my mind started wandering into the dark corners of past hurts, intellectual doubts, or, let’s be real, a bit too much enthusiasm that would occasionally lead me to lose my way. Whenever I started veering off track, abide whispered, “No, stay. Rest. You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

Taking Time with My Story

And then, the cherry on top: abide helped me finally start writing a memoir. I’ve been wanting to share my story for years – a story of growing up in a church where it wasn’t always safe to “just be”. But now, with abide, I can take my time. I don’t need to rush through the healing process or force the creative journey. I can stay in the process and trust that it’ll unfold at the right pace.

Link to Aritha's Dutch Writing Journey Blog

A Word That Moves Into 2025

So here I am, at the end of 2024, realizing that I didn’t join the “One Word” challenge, but I’ve already been living out my word in a way I didn’t expect. And that’s okay. In fact, it feels like the perfect timing. I’m starting early, yes, but it’s because God has already started this work in me. Abide is the word that has been with me all along, and now it gets to move into 2025.

While I’m embracing this word, I’m also fully aware that it’s His timing that truly matters. It’s about trusting that He will lead me where I need to go, in His time, not mine.

Linked to: Give Thanks to Your One Word of the Year

Shh, silent walking!

April 29th

Last night, I shared something with my husband that caught my attention.

There's this trendy thing on TikTok called silent walking: essentially, you take a stroll without any podcasts, music, or distractions. Just you, immersed in the natural sounds around you. For those of us born before the turn of the millennium, it's simply... well, a walk.*

* Flow magazine 4-2024

Now, I'm feeling pretty modern, haha. I've jumped on the silent walking bandwagon. How about you?

No wildlife encounters
This morning, I headed out again. I wouldn't label myself a "silent walker," more of a leisurely wanderer. After a week in Veluwe, it's refreshing to be back in my familiar woods. No need to constantly watch out for wild animals here; you just don't come across them.

Taking it easy
Lately, during my walks, my mind has been all over the place. Rushing from one thought to another. Yesterday, I told Jaap, "I'm just going to take it easy again." And that's exactly what I did. I snapped some photos of things that caught my eye.

Moss on a tree stump.
The trunk of a tree.

From my own voice recorder

(Speaking) The sun is shining. I gaze up at the tree canopy against the beautiful blue sky. Birds chirping. Spiderwebs glistening between the trees. Mosquitoes almost appearing golden in the sunlight, dancing just above the forest floor. What a beautiful morning. Oh, a distant ambulance siren, not so pleasant. But the birds keep singing, undisturbed. Me? Well, it reminds me: there may not be a paradise, but there are certainly beautiful spots in the woods, akin to an almost-paradise.

Red beech trees
To my surprise, the red beech trees are now fully adorned with leaves. I checked a few times before, but they weren't red yet, or the sun wasn't shining. But today, they are. Take a look, it's stunning.

Capturing tree canopies
This morning, I also spotted some beech trees, a bit less red, and one with green leaves. Standing right in the middle of the path, I snapped a photo with my phone aimed at the treetops to showcase the difference in color. It brings me such joy.

Variations in shades of red
I'm not entirely sure if the tree with the green leaves is a beech. It could also be an oak, but you can definitely distinguish between fiery red and less intense red.

💓😍

Fire alarm scare
And then, my peace was disrupted as I received a notification on my phone: fire alarm in the attic. And there I am, in the heart of the forest. My heart starts racing, wishing I could sprout wings and fly home. Then, the alert stops. My son texts, "No stress, everything's fine." My heart rate returns to normal, but that sense of tranquility, that almost-paradise feeling, doesn't quite come back.

I did manage to snap some photos of people walking their dogs. 

They always make for picturesque shots.

Silent Walking & Overstimulation
That excerpt I read aloud to my hubby about "Silent Walking," which I mentioned at the beginning of my blog, originates from an article about overstimulation. It ended with a powerful message, so I'll sum it up in my own words:

You might yearn for those promises made by online shops, trips, retreats (and Silent Walks), but they often fall short. They promise peace, relaxation, a renewed, liberated, happier version of yourself. But only one thing can truly deliver that. Only you can hit pause when your stress levels are off the charts. You have to make conscious decisions.

Feeling rejuvenated
My decision to walk twice a week isn't some magical solution, but it does have an impact. Jaap always say I return feeling rejuvenated. No more racing thoughts.

Piece of heaven in my heart

Naturally, as a Christian, what struck a chord with me was the statement that there's only one person that can bring you peace, a new, liberated, happier version of yourself. The author meant something different from God, but I couldn't help but think of my faith. He has a unique way of leading me to a new, liberated, happier version of myself. He promises inner peace: not some state of zen, but rather, a fresh start for your soul, deep within. My God forgives. Thinking of Him fills me with joy, knowing that He will eventually welcome me to the true Paradise. I already have a piece of paradise in my heart, as a foretaste.

Continuing my stroll
I read this article seriously enough to order the recommended book: "Van Stress Naar Veerkracht." [1] But hey, while I wait for it to arrive, I'll just keep strolling, exploring a bit... shh, silent walking!

It's May now, and I've got the book. It's a good read. I'm taking it slow, savoring it bit by bit. Highly recommended! Unfortunately, the book hasn't been translated into English yet.

---

💓 Do you have any recommendations for an English book on stress management and personal well-being?

💓Where do you choose to: just gaze ahead, or scroll, walk with headphones on, or walk without using the phone (but still bring it for safety)?

Five Minute Friday - Suffer

Some days, it feels like I'm drowning in suffering. Other times, I can handle it better. But nights are the worst. I try not to dwell on it too much, but often it overwhelms me, especially at night, when everything is quiet and I'm alone with my thoughts. I find it so hard to keep my mind from wandering!

The Heartache of Loss

Losing a child is incredibly hard. Witnessing my sister go through it, I realize the depth of devastation it brings. It's as though a piece of your heart is torn away, and life loses its familiar rhythm. 

But...

A Different Kind of Loss

But... what if the loss extends beyond just one individual? What if it means losing the embrace of the next generation? Yes, my daughter has chosen to cut ties with us, and it's a pain that cuts deep. I miss her, I miss my grandchildren, and this is a piece of suffering that I silently carry with me.

Finding Solace in God

Yet, even amidst the darkness, there's a glimmer of solace. Sometimes, when sleep evades me,I reach for the lamp on my bedside table – let there be light – and open my Bible. Psalm 27 speaks to me:

"The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?"

Embracing Divine Comfort

I continue reading until I reach the verse that says: 

"Though my father and my mother daughter abandoned me, the Lord gathers me up."

Tears flow freely as I absorb the words. Despite the immense loss, I find comfort in the assurance that God's love transcends human understanding. 

A Prayer for Guidance

After reading, I close my Bible, turn of the lamp, and whisper:

"Do not hide Your face from me; You have been my help. Do not abandon me nor forsake me, O God of my salvation! Teach me Your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path."

Joining in for Five Minute Friday today.