It’s the time of year when we reflect. The life and green of spring and summer has faded into the sleepiness and browns of fall and winter.

We forget seasons are a mirror of life’s cycles. Things die and fade so new elements can bloom into life.

When I graduated college in the fall of ’85, I was aware of one part of my life dying so another could begin. Walking across the Oval toward my sorority house, a three-story brick structure packed with my friends, laughter, and tears, I came to grips that some of the best days of my life were ending.

What was I going to do without my girls? Without my routine? I wouldn’t miss the stress of juggling classes, work, and studies, but I was going to miss college.

I realized that the “death” of one season was the birth of another. Finally, I could go for a career. Earn some money. Pay off school loans. Buy real groceries.

Saying good-bye to my formal education was part of my cycle of life. If I wasn’t sad over it, then I’d never lived it. The sorrow of ending is good. The anticipation of beginning is always around the corner.

If I’d not graduated and left college, I’d still be there. An almost fifty-year-old sorority girl still looking for a date on Friday night and eating a candy bar and drinking Diet Pepsi for lunch. Oy!

In this Thanksgiving and Christmas season, let’s count our blessings. What are a few of your favorite things? Make a list. Pray over it. Rejoice!

Here are a few of mine:

A blustery fall day with colored leaves on the trees.
Football, on the same blustery fall day.
A fire in the fireplace.
Cozy nights with my husband and watching a movie or DVDs of Numb3rs.
A good bowl of chili.
Ice cream with chocolate syrup over a hot, homemade brownie.
Lasagna, salad, and warm buttered Italian bread.
Holding a new book with my name on the cover.
Meeting with cousins I’ve not seen in years! And loving on each other .
The cuddle of my little dog against my legs when she sleeps.
My husband’s kisses.
The presence of God when I worship and pray.
Susie May Warren when she answers the phone to help me with a story point.

The sound of the waves crashing on the beach.
A spring day in central Florida.
Houses glowing with Christmas lights.
The beauty and hushed quiet of a new snowfall.
The justice of Jesus.
My editor.
My agent.
My mama’s soft hands.

My ninety-six-year-old grandma.
The sound of gravel crunching under car ties—reminds me of my paternal grandma’s driveway.
The song of the crickets.
The warmth of the sun.
God’s promises and truth in His Word.
Friends!
My convertible car.
My country.
I love this place.
I’m so grateful...
The privilege of prayer.
The melody of a guitar, the rhythm of the drums.
Laughter!

You...for reading this column every month. Thank you.

Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!