I chose this for the last image of advent as we prepare to move into the new year. St. Dunstan is an old church, mentioned in Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, as a tower looking down hauntingly at Scrooge. And yet, St. Dunstan is something completely new now -- after having been partially destroyed by bombs during the blitz of World War II, its empty shell has now become a beautiful and inviting garden, with vines and leaves growing up and through the remains of the structure, lovingly tended. There are benches for those who choose to sit and reflect. It has progressed from an ominous, looming structure to a shell of its former self, to a symbol of serenity and peace. May we all undergo a similar transformation in our own lives. The painting is a vignette, fading out around the edges to allude to a continuation, an ongoing progression, eternity. 

I love that Christ came as an infant -- a helpless newborn -- to symbolize that His mission (and one of his greatest gifts to the world) was to create an opportunity for newness for all of us, an opportunity to become new creatures, with clean hearts and spirits renewed, serving in new ways, and ultimately walking a new life. Let's all carry that beautiful sense of newness with us into the coming year. 

"Jordan and Harrison, Asleep," 12 x 16 original watercolor. Not For Sale.

One December we had a baby girl, and I was blown away by just how peaceful her presence was in our home, and how sweet it was to have a baby at Christmas, and how everything trivial and unimportant fell by the wayside as we focused on one thing: our newborn babe.

That baby girl is now a mother, and I loved this peaceful moment we caught of her napping with her firstborn son, Harrison--that same serenity I remembered from when she was a baby. I painted this for her birthday last December. 

How can I refocus my life so that The Newborn Babe is the center of all my attention, and everything else drops off my radar as I bask in His serenity?

"While Shepherds Watched," 15 x 24 original watercolor

I am amazed at the shepherds. I love that this joyous announcement came first to caregivers---those who were humbly watching over their charges in the middle of the night. It reminds me of young mothers, up feeding and caring for babies through the night. It also reminds me of teachers -- underpaid and often under appreciated, who work long hours in service to others. I love that heaven smiled upon these lowly servants. I love seeing their their humanity (they were sore afraid) and that they were reassured by an angel. Again, this makes me think of the many human angels who have reassured me in times of trouble and stress. Finally, I love their courage. I love that they show us that witnessing and sharing joy is active, not passive. They decide to act now, they run to see, and they tell everyone they can reach about the joy they have seen and felt.

"Comfort, Speak Tenderly," (Grandma Winters with me asleep), 6 x 9 original watercolor.

I cannot think of the word "comfort" without thinking of my long-departed grandmother, who was the very essence of comfort and tenderness...and also somehow embodied all things Christmas, including all the love and tenderness wrapped up in the birth of the Christ child. I love this New International Version of Isaiah specifically because it says, "Speak tenderly to Jerusalem"...and to us. If God cherishes us the way my grandma did, then I cannot think of a better place to yearn for, a better voice to listen for.

I have seen so many tender mercies and loving kindnesses from the Lord this year alone, it's impossible for me to doubt his love for me, and his loving guidance in every detail of our lives. I am in awe of his ability to comfort and care for us...even from afar.

"Peace in the Nation's Capital:" Washington D.C. Temple, 15 x 11 original watercolor.

When I first visited this temple the peace permeated the walls and made the beautiful grounds feel hallowed and serene. I love that it's located so near our nation's capital city, and yearn for such peace to come over our citizens as well. Party shall not lift up against party, neither shall they contend any more. That would be my Christmas wish. Cooperation and unity, bringing peace in their wake. The light of Christ has the potential to make that wish a reality rather than a dream. How can we be sure we're walking in the light of his love?

"Light in the Wilderness" (Red Willows, Oakley), 22 x 30

It was during one of the darkest times in my life that this scene spoke to me, and offered hope. I love the way the light travels over the distant mountains, just grazing the treetops, and is reflected in the river below. Next to the darkness, the willow branches grow a deep red, a symbol of the Savior—both his sacrifice, and the robe he'll wear when he returns.

C.S. Lewis has a famous quote where he posits that if we could see who our fellow humans truly are, and the divine potential they hold, we might be tempted to worship them. How can I see other humans through divine eyes, see the angels in their souls? What stranger can I reach out to today?

"Abundance," 12 x 16 original watercolor, from the waterfall series, July 2021.

I have probably painted a hundred things that could work for "a watered garden," but this one is my favorite because it also shows "the spring...whose waters fail not," and the rich imagery of abundance at play in our lives, including the growth--even on stone--that results.

​Sometimes when I pause to really see, I am stunned at what a watered garden my own life is, how everything has been touched by God and represents his endless goodness and extraordinary love for me. I stand all amazed.

I love this straight and narrow trail in the outskirts of southern Utah. I love the way that it points and the promise it holds if we follow it: Safety, an enlarged perspective, and peace.

Preparation is such an important part of advent. Just as John was called to prepare the way for Christ's ministry, each of us can and must prepare our hearts to receive him today. Sometimes the littlest things, the smallest of changes, can make the biggest difference. What will I do differently today to prepare?

"The Light that Shines Forth in Darkness, " 12 x 16 original watercolor. SOLD

I was stunned when I hiked this trail in early October and saw how incredibly the light was shining, lighting up the whole field in gold, amidst so much darkness and shadow. Sometimes we humans also walk in darkness, and sometimes when we're really fortunate we see a great light, a light that shines on us, comforts us, directs us and guides us.