Prepare Him Room

“Let every heart prepare Him room.” – from the carol “Joy to the World”

“But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.’” – Luke 2:10 (NIV)

“Be still, and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10 (NIV)

Every year, it seems Christmas sneaks up on me. I tell myself I’ll be ready this time—I’ll plan ahead, shop early, and slow down long enough to truly enjoy the season. But then life happens. One day I’m putting away the fall decorations, and the next, I’m bombarded by Christmas commercials, glittering store aisles, and friends posting pictures of their perfectly decorated trees.

I glance at the calendar and realize December is almost here, yet my heart isn’t ready. My home might soon be trimmed in lights and garland, but inside, I feel unprepared.

That familiar line from Joy to the World echoes softly in my mind: “Let every heart prepare Him room.” What does that really mean?

It means clearing away the clutter—both physical and spiritual—that keeps me distracted from the true reason for this season. It’s not about having the perfect gifts or the prettiest tree. It’s about making room in my heart for the One who came humbly to save us.

As I think about preparing my home for Christmas—cleaning, decorating, cooking—I’m reminded that I need to prepare my heart as well. I want to set aside quiet moments to humble myself before the Lord, to dig into His Word, and to let His Spirit renew the joy of my salvation.

When I stop striving and simply be still (Psalm 46:10), I find peace. The noise of the world fades, and I hear His gentle whisper reminding me that Christmas is about Christ—about love that came down to dwell among us.

This year, I don’t want Christmas to sneak up on me. I want to experience it differently—to invite Jesus into every corner of my heart and home.

So as these final weeks before Christmas unfold, I’m asking God to show me how to prepare Him room—to open my eyes to His presence, my hands to His service, and my heart to His peace.

Heavenly Father,

As the Christmas season approaches, help me to slow down and truly make room for You. Clear away the distractions that keep me from focusing on Your Son. Fill my heart with anticipation, not for presents or plans, but for Your presence. Teach me to prepare You room—in my thoughts, in my actions, and in my home. May this Christmas be less about doing and more about being still before You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

More Than a Day of Thanks

 

Thanksgiving is more than a day of food and family—it’s a day of prayer. For the believer, gratitude is a sacred act of worship.

Even though Thanksgiving is still a little more than two weeks away, I’ve already started prepping for the meal. There’s something peaceful about working ahead—chopping, baking, and planning—so that when the big day comes, I can rest, relax, and truly enjoy my family while they’re here. I don’t want to spend the whole day stuck in the kitchen and miss the real joy of the gathering.

As I prepare, God often brings someone to mind. Even when my hands are covered in butter or dough, I pause long enough to breathe a simple prayer. Those quiet, spontaneous moments of intercession have become one of my favorite parts of the season.

This year, my heart is especially tender. Several friends are facing cancer, and I find myself torn between gratitude for all God has done and compassion for those walking through pain. How do we celebrate when others are struggling?

Maybe the answer is this: we let our thanksgiving make space for prayer. We thank God for His goodness, even as we lift up those who can’t see it right now. Because gratitude and compassion are not opposites—they are threads of the same tapestry of faith.

This Thanksgiving, may our hearts be both thankful and tender, offering praise to God while holding others close in prayer. 🧡

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Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the blessings that fill our lives, both big and small. As we gather around our tables, help us remember those who can’t celebrate as easily this year. Wrap Your arms around the ones who are hurting, sick, or weary.
Teach us to be people of gratitude and compassion—to give thanks not just for what we have, but for Who You are. May our hearts overflow with kindness, our homes with peace, and our prayers with love.
In Jesus’ name, Amen. 

Learning to Bend Without Breaking

 

I’ve never been one to love change. In fact, I’d rank it right up there with root canals and long lines at the DMV. Somewhere along the way, I decided that routine equals peace. My coffee mug goes in the same cabinet, my socks have their own drawer, and my favorite chair has a perfectly molded dent that fits me like an old friend. Why mess with perfection?

 

But life doesn’t consult our comfort zones before it starts rearranging things. One day you’re cruising along, windows down, music playing, and the next day—boom!—the map changes. Jobs end, kids move away, health shifts, friends drift. The seasons of life seem to come faster now, and I can’t find the pause button.

 

I used to think if everything stayed the same, I’d finally feel secure. But honestly, if nothing ever changed, we’d probably get bored out of our minds. Can you imagine living the same day on repeat forever? Even Groundhog Day had to end eventually.

 

Still, it’s strange how easy it is to find security in stability. Maybe it’s because when things are predictable, we feel like we’re in control. But the truth is, that’s just an illusion. Change reminds us—sometimes painfully—that we’re not running the show. And maybe that’s the point.

 

Growth doesn’t come from sitting still. It comes from those uncomfortable, stretching seasons that make us want to hide under the covers and wait it out. Every time life has shifted under my feet, I’ve learned something new about myself—and about God. He doesn’t just allow change; He uses it to shape us.

 

When I look back, the times I’ve grown the most were never the easy ones. They were the times I had to let go of what was and trust that something better was coming, even if it didn’t feel that way. It’s funny how we cling so tightly to what’s familiar, even when God’s trying to hand us something new.

 

So these days, I’m learning to bend a little. To roll with the punches. To laugh at the unexpected and find peace in the unknown. It’s not always easy—some days I’m more creaky oak than flexible willow—but I’m trying.

 

Because underneath all the shifting sands of life, one thing never changes: God’s faithfulness. When everything around me feels uncertain, He remains steady. That’s where true stability lives—not in my routines, not in the things I can control, but in the unchanging hands that hold it all together.

 

And maybe that’s what growing older (and hopefully wiser) is really about: learning to trust the One who never changes, even when everything else does.

 

Dear Lord, thank You for walking with me through every season of change. When life feels uncertain and the ground beneath me shifts, remind me that You are my anchor and my peace. Help me to loosen my grip on what was and open my heart to what You are doing now. Teach me to find joy in new beginnings, courage in unfamiliar places, and faith that You are working all things for my good. Even as the world changes around me, let my trust that You remain unshakable. Amen.

 

"Of old You laid the foundation of the earth,

and the heavens are the work of Your hands.

They will perish, but You will remain; they will all wear out like a garment.You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but You are the same, and Your years have no end." Psalm 102:25–27

A Thanksgiving Tradition, Southern Style

Back when I was growing up, Thanksgiving at our house was no small production—it was an event. Mama ran the show from start to finish, and heaven help the soul who dared to step foot in her kitchen once she got started.

A few days before the big day, she’d head down to our local grocery store—back then it was called Foodtown, though it’s Thriftown now for reasons I’ll never understand. She’d come home with a 12- to 15-pound turkey that looked big enough to feed the entire congregation, a huge bunch of collard greens, a bag of cornmeal, a dozen eggs, milk, butter, and a couple cans of pumpkin for her famous pie.

Mama always said Thanksgiving dinner didn’t just happen—it took elbow grease, timing, and a good dose of don’t you dare get in my way. She didn’t want help, and we all knew better than to offer. I used to love watching her wrestle that big old bird into the roasting pan, smearing butter under its skin like she was tucking it in for a long winter’s nap. She’d pop it into the oven in the wee morning hours while the rest of us were still dreaming about the feast to come.

A day or two before, she’d tackle the collard greens. Lord, I hated that smell—it would hang in the air for hours, seeping into every curtain and cushion in the house. But everyone else loved them, so I learned to just breathe through my mouth and wait it out.

Then came the cornbread. Mama would mix cornmeal, eggs, and buttermilk in her big glass bowl, her small hands moving fast, turning that mixture into gold. By the time she was done, her hands would be red as tomatoes from washing them in water so hot it could peel paint. I used to wonder if that was her secret ingredient—fiery determination and water that could boil eggs.

When the kitchen smelled like heaven and everything was ready, Mama would call one of us kids in to set the table. We never quite knew how many people were coming because Mama had a habit of inviting half the neighborhood and any stray cousin who might be within a 50-mile radius. “The more, the merrier,” she’d say, and somehow there was always enough to go around.

When it came time to bless the food, Mama took charge. Daddy wasn’t much for praying out loud, but he sure did love to wrestle us kids for the pully bone afterward. He called it “settlin’ things the old-fashioned way.” Somehow, he always won.

It was hot in that kitchen from the oven working overtime, but nobody minded. The windows would fog up, laughter would fill the air, and plates would overflow with turkey, dressing, greens, and love.

Looking back now, I realize Mama wasn’t just cooking a meal—she was serving up tradition, faith, and family. She made sure we knew that Thanksgiving wasn’t just about the food on the table but about the hearts around it.

And if I close my eyes, I can still hear her saying, “Now y’all hush and bow your heads—we’re gonna thank the Lord proper.”

Dear Lord, thank You for the hands that cook, the hearts that gather, and the memories that keep us warm long after the dishes are done. Thank You for family—by blood and by choice—and for every blessing that fills our plates and our souls. Help us to carry gratitude not just on Thanksgiving, but every day we’re given breath. And Lord, if You don’t mind, could You make sure Mama’s kitchen up there has plenty of butter and just the right size turkey? Amen.

Random Musings © Bonnie Annis 2025

Come Set a Spell: A Lesson in Patience and Faith

When I was a child, visiting my grandparents was one of the greatest joys of my week. They lived about fifty-five miles from our home, and every Friday evening, after my daddy got off work, we’d pack up the car and head their way. My father always helped my grandfather in his shop on the weekends, meeting the quota he had for a local mill.

As soon as we turned into that familiar driveway, all of us kids would start bouncing around in the backseat with excitement. We knew we were about to have the best kind of weekend — the kind filled with sunshine, laughter, and plenty of playtime while the grown-ups worked.

When we reached the front porch, the screen door would creak open, and without fail, my grandmother’s sweet voice would call out, “Y’all come on in and set a spell!”

Now, proper English would’ve said sit a spell, but in our Southern home, “set a spell” just felt right. Back then, I didn’t care about grammar. The only thing that mattered was that she wanted to spend time with us — to stop what she was doing, welcome us in, and make us feel loved.

Those weekends were simple, but they were rich. The air always smelled faintly of machine oil and biscuits baking. The hum of my grandfather’s tools mixed with the sound of my grandmother’s shuffling around in the kitchen. And no matter how busy everyone seemed, there was always time to “set a spell.”

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about those visits. This week especially, it feels like God has been whispering to my heart in much the same way: “Come and set a spell with Me.”

Life gets so busy — the days blur together, filled with things to do and places to be. I usually start my mornings with coffee and my Bible, but some days I rush right past that quiet time, thinking I’ll get to it later. But God waits patiently, just like my grandmother did — eager for me to pause, open the door, and spend a little time with Him.

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” That verse has taken on a new meaning for me lately. God doesn’t just want our quick prayers in between appointments or our distracted thoughts before bed. He wants us to be still long enough to feel His presence — to truly know Him.

When I picture my grandmother’s porch and her warm invitation, I can almost see my Heavenly Father sitting there too, gently calling, “Come and set a spell.” And just like those visits long ago, when I take the time to sit with Him, I always find peace, comfort, and a love that never runs out.

Dear Lord, thank You for the gentle reminders to slow down and spend time with You. In a world that moves too fast, help me to be still long enough to feel Your presence and hear Your voice. Teach me to rest in Your peace, just as I once rested on my grandmother’s porch. Thank You for always waiting with open arms, ready to spend time with me. Amen.

Random musings ©️ Bonnie Annis

A letter to my forever friend

A letter to my forever friend, the red headed wonder:

Where should I start? I guess I'll start with my first memory of you. I had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and was on Facebook looking to join breast cancer groups. I had no idea what I was facing and needed some support. I don't remember which one I met you on, but you took the time to answer one of my posts and not only that, you offered to come and visit me. You said you'd help me understand some of the things that I was going to be facing. I was both excited and nervous to get your response. I don't normally meet with strangers and I was scared.

You weren't able to come until a few days after I'd had surgery. I remember when the doorbell rang I was so embarrassed. I didn't want you to see me with the Jackson Prstt drains dangling from my neck. They were so ugly and my wounds were so raw, but you said you didn't care. You'd already been through that. You knew what they were, drainage tubes that pulled fluid and blood away from the wounds. 

Within just a few minutes of talking with you, I felt completely at ease. You smiled a big smile and gave me a bear hug. It was so nice to have an instant friend, one who understood the things I couldn't say.

I wasn't sure at that time whether I would go through with reconstruction surgery as my breast surgeon advised and I told you so. You threw your head back and laughed. You even offered to show me your "Foobs" as you called them, fake boobs. You told me they were great and that I'd get a free tummy tuck, too. You wanted me to know what they might look like if I decided to go forward with surgery. I said, Thanks, but no thanks." Though I didn't explain, I think you understood I was afraid to look at them. I was afraid seeing them would freak me out. 

I don't remember how long you stayed that first visit but the day seemed to last forever. When it was time for you to go, you promised to come back again soon. I was thankful. 

Since that first meeting over 11 years ago, we've done our best to keep up but often life gets in the way. I love it whe we find time to meet for lunch, it's so nice to talk freely, sharing our hopes, fears, and dreams. Those times are rare because of conflicting schedules. Thankfully, we can touch base through social media or quick texts. But after each contact, I want more. It's almost like you're a drug and I need a fix. You're so strong in your cancer walk and I'm still figuring things out.

One of the things I love most about you is your attitude of gratitude. You've taught me to look for things each day that I can be thankful for and that has helped me develop a spirit of positivity.

When I look at you, dear friend, I don't see a breast cancer survivor, I see a thriver. I see a brave woman on the outside. I see a woman who is a world traveler, a person who never meets a stranger, and a person who always loves. You give so much of yourself to each who meet you. 

None of us know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future. I pray that you will always be safe in your travels, that you will always know you are loved, and that you will always have the opportunity to share your story to others.

You are a blessing and it is my honor to call you friend.

With love,

Bonnie 

My TBR pile is growing!

Books, you either love them or hate them. Personally, I love and collect them. Lately, I've noticed my TBR (to be read) pile is growing. I don't know how, but it seems my books are multiplying while I'm not looking. But I'm not finding any book babies, just grownups waiting their turn to be read. 

Some days I feel like reading, and some days I don't. When it's hot outside, I don't care to sit and read. On the other hand, when it's cool and there's a nice breeze, I love sitting outside reading for hours. There's just something about being in nature and holding a book in your hand as a story comes alive. 

Just a few of my recent haul

I'm finding I enjoy many different authors now than I did in the past. Some of my current favorites are Elin Hilderbrand, Susan Wiggs, and Sandra Brown. I especially love their series, but hate it when I buy one of their books without knowing it's in the middle of a series. When I read the third or fourth in a series and then realize my faux pas, I have to order every book in the series and start over. That can be a costly mistake! Thank heavens for ThriftBooks. I can usually find good used books there or through Better World Books. 

 Not only do I read for fun, I also read for businesses. I review their books and in exchange for my honest opinion, I get a free book. It's a win win situation. Sometimes the books are boring but most times they're very interesting. I love reading different genres but stay away from anything that revolves around the occult, witchcraft, or dark topics. 
 

Books are so fun and I hope all of my children and grandchildren take joy in reading. There's nothing like opening a book and finding yourself thrust into adventure.