Well, 2010 is quickly rolling to a bumpy end here at my house. Nevertheless, I hope that this letter finds all my readers safely gliding into the holidays as I

share my own Christmas wishes.

After my illustrious husband hopped on his Victory Eight-ball motorcycle one warm September morning and ended up taking a ride in an ambulance, not once, but twice, I took over managing the store which, consequently, has turned into a permanent gig. So, besides “running” the store (wouldn’t be possible without the sharp gals I have working for me) I’m looking forward to all three of my novels being published in 2011. The first two are due out in March and November and will be available online in both ebook and paperback—the third will hit bookshelves in May or June.

Last Friday after a crazy first week in December that started with two parties—one of them I catered—I got home late, cozied up in my flannel pj’s and then slumped down on the floor in front of my Christmas tree to grab a few moments of peace. Gazing up at the star I wondered what the shepherds and wise men must have been thinking when they saw the first sign that The Savoir had been born? How would living prior to His birth change ones perspective? Do we take this season for granted or get caught up in the commercialism because we have never known a life without Christ’s birth? Because we’ve had the luxury of always having been saved?

Taking in the symbols of the season, I searched for a little perspective in the warm glow of the lights and considered Christ’s example to us of how to live, the red ribbon and ornaments, symbols of His atonement, and then the evergreen of the tree—eternal life.

Eternal life . . .

My head hit the ottoman behind me with a thud. Eternity sounded like a long time. I didn’t feel like I had the energy to live that long. But then I thought about Christ’s sacrifice and how his birth and death meant that in spite all of my flaws, including the times I ignore my family because I want to write, that I can live some day, perfected, simply because I believe. And that knowledge—that hope—had me feeling a little less tired.

So with a husband on the mend (fingers crossed), two girls who are growing into fine young women (knock on wood), a business that is still afloat (God willing) and my books being published (who’d a thought), what could I possibly want for Christmas besides more time to work on my fourth novel? Humm? I suppose I want what every woman wants . . . a pair of blue jeans that really fit would be nice. (That’d be a Christmas miracle indeed!)

May your Christmas be filled with hope  . . . the New Year bright with possibilities.