A Sign of Sanctuary

As December unfolds, I find myself swept up in the rushing river of the holiday season, feeling it swirl ever closer to the end of 2025. I can’t say I’ll be sorry for the fresh start of 2026. It’s been a year, hasn’t it?

Finding sanctuary this time of year always takes a bit more focus and a bit more effort, but sitting here writing to you this morning, I am watching the morning light stretch across my desk, illuminating the leaves of the plant across from me. It’s glowing the most beautiful shade of leafy, spring green. 

It reminds me of the mountains of North Carolina, where the slopes around our cottage are covered in a moss that feels like the softest blanket you can imagine underfoot. The green is luminous in the sunlight, and my heart always leaps with delight when I see it.

We were in those very mountains over the Thanksgiving holiday, and while there, I lost my beloved Springer Spaniel, Maggie. I knew she was old — fifteen years old is two years more than the life expectancy for her breed. Her health had been declining and I was grateful for every extra moment I had with her. But after a particularly bad night, my husband and I held hands, kissed her sweet nose, and suspected her time had come.

I walked alone through the forest that morning and felt the cold air keenly on my tear-streaked cheeks. I didn’t want her to suffer unnecessarily but I also didn’t want to end her life prematurely. I closed my eyes, reached heavenward, and asked for a sign — something to let me know it was okay. To confirm that she was ready to go.

When I returned from that cold walk in the forest, I sat with her on the floor of the cottage, petting her soft head. I just let myself sink into the moment, saving it in my heart. As I glanced up through the window, my eyes expecting to sweep over that green, mossy glade, my gaze was caught. I froze. Looking directly into my eyes was the most beautiful buck I have ever seen. He stood there, looking steadily at me with his deep brown eyes in the morning light. His antlers were glorious, crowning his head. As he looked at me, I was filled with such peace. He came to show Maggie the way home. I looked down at Maggie with tears in my eyes. I looked again out the window, and he was gone.

My sign. There it was, clear as the day that had just dawned.

Isn’t there such benevolence and love in the world?! I was suddenly swamped with it.

My heart overflowed, and for a moment, all of the pressures and stresses and strains of this year receded. I realized that everything was and is okay. And everything would continue to be okay. I breathed more deeply than I have in months. It didn’t hurt any less, but somehow I knew Maggie would be okay, and that while I would be heartbroken, I would be okay too.

Maybe that’s part of the magic of sanctuary. It doesn’t take away the heartaches of life. But by opening our hearts to the universe, it helps us gather the strength and courage to face whatever comes, knowing that God holds each of us in the center of his hand.

Goodbye, sweet girl. Run free. My heart runs with you.

With love and gratitude,

Lisa