Dan and I are in the middle of a transition. Our house is being turned upside down, rearranged, and enlarged.
Which necessitated a move into our honeymoon carriage.
Dan and I are in the middle of a transition. Our house is being turned upside down, rearranged, and enlarged.
Which necessitated a move into our honeymoon carriage.
Shauna Niequist, one of my favorite writers, was featured on a recent podcast. She talked about an angel visiting Mary and leaving her with a special assignment.
“I want an assignment,” said Niequist.
I want can’t-miss-it clarity, a special purpose, the certainty that I’m on the right path doing the right thing, and that it matters.
As of this writing, Dan and I hiked/snowshoed a total of 504.25 miles in 2020. In the course of those miles, we ascended 33,427 feet. Which is equivalent to trekking to the top level of the Empire State Building 26 times.
Dan and I made reservations three weeks in advance. They’re only open Saturday mornings and they fill up quickly.
This thought from Bella Grace magazine:
It’s easy to fall into the trap of equating being busy with being worthy and fulfilled. Take a moment and let the world fall quiet around you. What truly brings you joy?
Dan and I thought up a brilliant idea.
During this COVID holiday season—since we won’t be gathering with our kids and grands—what if we did at least one act of service or giving on each of the 25 days leading up to Christmas?
Nearly once a week, he’d stuff cookies into his pocket and we’d hike the river. And always, we stopped for coffee and Chai tea to sip with his stash of cookies. It was Cody who taught me to pay closer attention to the wonders surrounding us.
On a day when we normally would have been surrounded by kids and grands, Dan and I packed our Thanksgiving feast into the wilderness and spread it out on a tablecloth overlooking a snowy landscape.
Chai tea, turkey sandwiches, potatoes and gravy, and veggies never tasted better.
“Wow. Didn’t expect this much snow.” Dan and I hadn’t brought our snowshoes. Because our intent was to hike. In hiking boots.
It’s snowing as I write this—beautiful fluffy white stuff falling from the heavens—but honestly it wasn’t that long ago when I introduced my new husband Dan to a favorite Cascade trail.
Copyright © 2025 Marlys Johnson