The Inkers Pen

The snowstorm of 2026 arrived last week with the name, Fern … like it was a sweet little old lady stopping by with a casserole. Then it kicked in the door, rearranged the furniture, and demanded to be called Snowmageddon. Fern sounds delicate, leafy, polite. Snowmageddon sounds like a monster movie. What we got was both: a blizzard wearing a lace collar and steel-toed boots. The snow fell fast and thick, piling up like an unchecked to-do list. It swallowed cars, sidewalks, and driveways within minutes, like a memory covering everything at once. The world went quiet in that special way only snow can manage—hushed and heavy, as if someone had wrapped the neighborhood in a giant white comforter and said, “Sit by the fireplace, have a mug of cocoa, and take a nap.” I’ll be the first to admit: I’m not a sled-riding person anymore, even though I still have my antique Speedway sled with its rope-steering wooden body and cold steel runners. These days, I admire winter from the window, coffee in hand, like a tourist who forgot their boots. But growing up? That was a completely different story. Winter wasn’t something to endure; it was something to strap onto and race. We had a snowmobile that roared through the frozen fields and the strip mine behind our house. We were loud and wild and unstoppable. At some point, we also had the bright idea to rip the roof off a Volkswagen Bug and pull it behind the snowmobile—no helmet, no rules, no sense. You held on and hoped for the best. Ice skating was always on the agenda too—after school, before homework, under gray skies that smelled like snow. We skated until our toes went numb and our cheeks burned, skating backwards like the Olympic gold medalist Dorothy Hamil and feeling completely invincible. Oh, and if you see my husband, ask him if he'll ever be the last to join crack the whip. Fern/Snowmageddon didn’t send me flying downhill or lacing up my skates, but it did send me back—back to that sharp, happy cold and the reckless joy of winter. Snowstorms are time machines. You just have to look out the window and let them take you there. Blessings, Linda “Some snowstorms fall like blankets. This one hit like a memory.” ~~ LM

“For the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.” Luke 19:10 KJV The average person misplaces something up to nine times a day. That means at any given moment one of us is wandering through the house, muttering like a detective in fuzzy slippers, desperately opening and closing closets, looking in cupboards, even checking behind the couch cushions. And let’s be honest, at least once or twice a day, the item is not just “misplaced.” Nope. It’s a full-blown code red, alert-the-neighbors situation. Could this endless game of losing and finding be hinting at something more substantial than humor alone? Jesus once shared a parable about a … “... woman who [had] ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does she light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? And when she [finds] it, she calls her friends and neighbors together, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I lost’!” (Luke 15:8-9 NKJV) It’s amazing how emotional we become while looking for a lost item. I lost my diamond ring once. I remember fiddling with it while talking to a friend in the parking lot at the public library. But I didn’t realize it had slipped off my finger until the next morning ... at 5:58! In wild-eyed haste, I called my dear friend, who jumped in her car, rushed to the library in pajamas and fuzzy slippers. There in the still of the morning she found my ring right where I had parked. Bless her heart, bless her eagle eyes, and bless our Creator for answering our prayer by leading her straight to that ring. That ... that was an amazing jump-up-and-down-praise-the-Lord kind of emotional moment. Since then, I’ve gained thirty pounds. Though I’m not proud to point that out, I can assure you my ring won’t be slipping off my finger anytime soon. It's a very snug fit now. So, you see, sometimes what’s ‘lost’ isn’t gone forever. But perhaps every misplaced item should be thought of as an invitation to remember this truth: God is always searching our heart. He is always seeking and finding the lost. “For the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10, KJV). Jesus cares about the lost—especially when it comes to their hearts. While we search the rooms of our homes—opening closets, peeking under cushions—Jesus searches our hearts. He faithfully watches, gently guides, and keeps us close so we’re never lost, never forgotten, and never misplaced. Heavenly Father, When I lose my way, You never lose sight of me or my heart. You search with love, not judgment, and draw me close again. Help me rest in being found in You. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Spiritual Sparks Have you ever lost something and felt God intervene with a helping hand? Have you ever lost your way in life and felt the hand of God's guiding you home? ❤️ Sometimes what’s ‘lost’ isn’t gone forever. ~~LM ❤️

Did you know the average person misplaces something up to nine times a day? That means, statistically speaking, at any given moment one of us is wandering the house, muttering to ourselves, and patting down pockets with the desperation of someone searching for a golden ticket. And let's be honest: at least once or twice a day, it's not just “misplaced”—it's a full-blown, code red, send-out-a-search-party situation. Especially when it's your phone, keys, or that elusive charging cable you swear was just on the table. Some days, my house feels like a black hole for personal possessions. Reading glasses vanish like a magician's prop, shoes migrate under the couch or recliner, and the remote—oh, don't get me started on the remote. My husband and I have our own. Why? Apparently, we don't play nice with one remote. When a lost item finally turns up, it's always in a place that defies logic; like my phone, recently discovered chilling behind the milk in the fridge. (At least it wasn't the freezer—my screen may need a new cover, but it doesn't deserve frostbite.) There's a special kind of madness that happens when you're in the frantic throes of searching for something important, only to forget what you're looking for mid-hunt. How is it possible to lose both an object and the memory of that object at the same time? I mean, here you are rooting through drawers like a raccoon in a trash can. Your heart pounding. Your mind blank. It's ludicrous, like stress wrapped in a riddle. Maybe all this losing and finding is life's way of reminding us to slow down, laugh at ourselves, and appreciate the little victories—like outsmarting our own forgetfulness, if only for a moment. Blessings, Linda “I don’t lose things—I just put them somewhere so safe even I can’t find them.” ~~ LM

First off, a huge thank you to everyone who’s emailed me since launching this new blog yesterday! Your enthusiasm—and your curious questions—have truly made my day. So many of you have asked, “What exactly are neocaridina shrimp?” Well, let me introduce you to these colorful little characters swimming circles in my world. They are a pint-size parade of color swishing through my aquarium like confetti on parade day. These little crustaceans come in an artist’s palette of hues: firetruck red, tangerine orange, lemon yellow, electric blue, ghostly white and all colors in between. When they gather, it’s like watching a living bag of jellybeans with antennas. Neocaridina shrimp are the janitors of the aquatic world, forever on the move, darting and skittering across the gravel in search of their next meal. Their taste in cuisine? Let’s call it “opportunistically adventurous.” These scavengers gobble up algae with the enthusiasm of kids at an all-you-can-eat candy buffet, but don’t let their cuteness fool you—they’ll munch on anything, including their own kin if the opportunity arises. It’s a shrimp-eat-shrimp world in there. Their favorite hangouts are soft patches of aquatic moss and nooks of Indian Almond leaves, where they can snack, molt, and gossip about the otocinclus that hides near the sponge filter. I like to spoil these tiny tank-dwellers occasionally with bloodworms and brine shrimp—a five-star treat that may or may not cause a ruckus inside the glass feeding bowl. Right now, I have a sky-blue mama shrimp sporting a a clutch of eggs like a pocketful of inky-dinky yellow marbles. Soon, the tank will be sprinkled with baby shrimp, each one no bigger than a comma. So, if you’re searching for a bit of quirkiness and a splash of color in your home, neocaridina shrimp are the aquatic equivalent of confetti—cheerful, surprising, and always ready to clean up after the party. Blessings and have a wonderful day...LM

Welcome to Between Coffee Sips , where my caffeine-charged musings bubble up alongside the tiny drama happening in my aquariums. Here, thoughts percolate like a fresh pot of java, while my colorful neocaridina shrimp glide through their tank, a little otocinclus eats algae, and a Betta fish gives me the side-eye every time I pause to write. Don’t worry, the territorial Betta Boy lives by himself and rules his own underwater realm. Think of this blog as your favorite chipped mug: warm, a little quirky, and full of surprises. You’ll find a dash of everything here. Some days, it might be old poems rescued from the depths of my ancient notebooks (no judgment, please … yes, I keep everything, just ask my husband). Other days, you’ll get a peek at what I’m working on, a story in progress, a gloriously unfiltered diary entry about the state of my desk, the whereabouts of my slippers, or the existential thoughts inspired by my aquatic roommates. Expect reflections on the ordinary—avocado toast, dragonflies (whimsical little buggers), or an uncooperative houseplant that's causing a friend anxiety. There will be moments of inspiration, a pinch of nostalgia, plenty of honesty, and always, always a cup of something warm nearby. In this small space I’ll share thoughts and ideas, one cup (and maybe one tank-cleaning) at a time. So, pour yourself some coffee, settle in, and let’s see where Between Coffee Sips (and aquatic adventures) take us. If you spot some runaway slippers or a bold orange shrimp, send word—they’re probably planning the next coffee run.

Praise ye the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power. Praise him for his mighty acts: praise him according to his excellent greatness. Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord. Psalm 150:1-2, 6 Praising God is the “thank you” that refuses to be silenced. You can praise God anywhere: at a red light, in the grocery aisle, while cooking dinner, even while cleaning out the garage (bonus points if you find something you lost last year). There’s no limit on where, when, or how long you can praise God. Seriously, the sky’s the limit. (No pun intended 😉) When we praise God, we see who we truly are. We understand our purpose in life, especially when we feel His love cuddle into our soul. As we praise and worship God, it draws us close to His heart and helps us develop a healthy self-image. Praise establishes our faith and strengthens our walk with the Lord. The more we praise, the more our eyes shift from our wish list toward God’s presence, His power, and His love. It’s as if we’re adjusting binoculars to see the glory of Heaven instead of the weeds. The moment we speak an “amen” or a “hallelujah,” gratitude rises like a deep breath we didn’t realize we were holding, filling our hearts with thanks and knowing He is active and present in our lives. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the light, and for those who believe, we are the light of this world. Dear friend, “Praise Him for His mighty acts…” Praise Him for who He is. Praise Him for every breath you breathe. But most of all, “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord…” and offer Him the thank you that refuses to be silenced. Heavenly Father, Thank you for Your mighty acts, for listening to me when words do not come easy. Lord, as I praise you, remind me who You are and who I am in You. Shift my focus from my desires to Your presence, and anchor my heart in truth, love, and joyful obedience. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Spiritual Sparks Challenge List three things you’re thankful for today. Then turn each one into a short prayer of praise, focusing on who God is rather than what He has given. Let go of your thoughts and write freely. " Praising God is the “thank you” that refuses to be silenced." ~~LM

"Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended, but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead. I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus Philippians 3:13-14 NKJV As the year’s end flutters into view, we stand on the edge of midnight, hearts poised between what has been and what is coming. In Times Square, they say nearly 3,000 pounds of confetti will rain down as the clock ticks its final seconds—a joyful mess marking a fresh beginning. It’s tempting to cling to regrets from the year behind us, but let’s not allow past mistakes and trials to become the glitter we can never quite vacuum up. Instead, let’s sweep up the crumbs of old grudges, toss them out, and thank God for all He’s brought us through—trials that taught us mercy, grudges transformed by grace. God’s faithfulness has been the sturdy umbrella during surprise downpours. He’s the duct tape holding our dreams together when life came unglued. Each hard lesson we stumbled through was a stepping stone, not a stumbling block—or maybe a banana peel that taught us not to sprint through life’s grocery aisle. Things happen at Walmart … just saying. Dear Friend, this is the season to let go of the sharp words thrown our way, of the people who acted like human porcupines, and of the burdens we were never meant to carry into the New Year. Gratitude is our luggage now—light and full of praise for what God has done and for what he will do. So, as we leap into the new year (I’m using a fresh Snoopy calendar, but you do you), I pray the trials of last year are not anchors. I’m praying they become little trampolines, launching us toward joy, purpose, and a greater love. The apostle Paul never settled for the past. No, in fact Paul says: “ … but one thing I do forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead. I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus "(Philippians 3:13-14 NKJV). Such wise words. Let’s thank God for every lesson, every laugh, every bump, and every blessing. When the confetti settles and the noise fades, we’re reminded that God is still faithful and steady through every season. The best is yet to come, so let’s praise Him for who He is, who He’s been, and trust Him with everything this new year brings. Heavenly Father, Thank You for Your faithfulness through every twist and tumble of this past year. Help us release regrets and burdens, and fill our hearts with hope as we step into the new year. May Your love be our guide, Your joy our strength, and our lives a chorus of praise for all You have done. In Jesus' Name. Amen. Spiritual Sparks What are you most grateful for from this past year, and how did you see God’s faithfulness through it? As you step into the new year, what is one burden or regret you want to leave behind? "Thank God for all He’s brought us through—trials that taught us mercy, grudges transformed by grace."~~LM 🎉 God bless, Happy New Year, and thank you for visiting my little corner of the world. 🎉

Photo by Rosie Kerr on Unsplash "But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. ” Luke 2:10 NKJV Joy in the third week of Advent often tiptoes in wearing fuzzy socks, the air sweet with the smell of sugar cookies, and grandkids giggling their way through the house like caffeinated elves. This is the week your majestic tree twinkles to perfection, as if waiting to audition for a role in the Star of Bethlehem. At some point during the days before Christmas, the family settles onto the floor and couch—a tangle of knees, blankets, pillows, and a myriad of snacks that defy calories. Cookies partner a plate with fudge, trail bologna finds its soulmate in cheese, and coffee collaborates with pie. The infamous Grinch flashes across the TV screen, and a quotes of Cindy Lou Who echo throughout the room. As the movie advances, “You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” is belted out with the gusto of voices who have sung it every year since, well, since forever. And still, it never gets old. Have you noticed how Christmas joy slips quietly into the middle of everything? This slightly chaotic happiness enlarges like the Grinch’s heart until it spills over with laughter, crumbs, and lots of fun-loving giddiness. You see, Jesus holds firm right there through it all. He’s there during the laughter, imperfections, and struggles— never asking for silence or polish. Jesus simply wants us to notice the holiness hiding in plain sight … to see and know He is our “good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10 NKJV). Even though joy arrives in fuzzy socks, twinkling trees, or laughter echoing through every corner of the house, the true joy of Christmas is found in a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger—Jesus, our Savior. He was born to bring the world light, love, and lasting joy to all. Heavenly Father, Open my eyes, Lord, to the joy hidden in laughter, crumbs, and chaos. I pray that I always notice and feel the holiness of Your presence. May the gift of Jesus—our eternal hope and joy—grow in the hearts of all the people. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Spiritual Sparks 1. Where have you noticed moments of joy in the midst of this chaotic season? 2. How can you invite Jesus (the true joy of Christmas!) into your holiday routines? 🎄 "Christmas joy simply wants us to notice the holy hiding in plain sight." ~~LM 🎄

Image by Aaron Morgan "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." Luke 2:14 KJV The second week of Advent spotlights peace. We all want peace this time of year. The kind that warms the heart with the first sip of morning coffee or when watching the sun stretch its radiant fingers across the landscape of a snowy field, and who doesn't want the contentment of curling up by the fireplace with a book you’ve been meaning to read for months. But ... before any of that can happen, we must setup the pre-lit Christmas tree. Tis the season, right? Right. Until you plug it in and only the top half glows like the Star of Bethlehem. The bottom half? Well, it looks like it gave up on life sometime in July. Henceforth, the pilgrimage to the store begins. The problem? You can't buy just any lights. You need the exact shade of warm-white LEDs that match the preexisting factory-wired lights from 2017. May the odds be ever in your holiday favor. Breathe in. Breathe out. As you Grinch your way to the shopping center, the drive feels like a traffic jam on ice—no carols, no cheer, and apparently the person in front of you missed the memo that merging is a shared activity. By the time the two-hour light-buying fiasco winds to a close, your husband chimes in with: “We can either buy a new tree or use the colored lights hibernating in the attic for the "irritating tree" we have standing in the living room.” Yes, the man used finger-quotes. B reathe in. Breathe out. So, somewhere between the slushy parking lots and people forgetting how turn signals work, our flocked (non-working pre-lit) Christmas tree twinkles and glows with colored lights. Now, onto setting up the beautiful inherited nativity scene. As I place baby Jesus in His manger, I'm reminded of the angels' words: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men" (Luke 2:14 NKJV). "...and on earth peace..." Jesus' birth was anything but peace. He was born into a world far more chaotic than any kind of Christmas tree or lighting disaster could ever create. My goodness, His peace didn’t hinge on colored lights in an attic. Bethlehem wasn’t neat or cozy as Joseph and Mary arrived. There was no room in the inn, no sterile area to birth a baby, and should I even mention the "lowing" of animals nearby. Our Prince of Peace entered the world inside a stable thick with smelly hay and was gently laid into a feeding trough, something we refer to (in a loving manner) as a manger. Nothing about that night was peaceful or perfect, yet the Heavenly Father slipped His loving peace right into the middle of the holy mess. You see, the same God who pierced the night sky with the Star of Bethlehem, the same God who brought order into the Christmas eve chaos back then, is the same God who breathes peace into our daily life now. So, take a sip of coffee or hot cocoa, eat a marshmallow, let yourself laugh, let yourself sing praises, and if the tree doesn't light, who cares. Remember, peace isn't always found in the absence of chaos. It's found in the beautiful presence of knowing and believing in Jesus Christ. Heavenly Father, Thank You for breathing peace into my daily life. Thank You for sending Jesus (the perfect, beautiful tiny bundle of flesh wrapped in swaddling clothes) into this imperfect and corrupt world. Praise to our Prince of Peace, the Savior of the world. In Jesus' Name. Amen. Spiritual Sparks What chaos are you trying to “fix,” instead of allowing the Holy Spirit to calm your heart? " Peace isn't always found in the absence of chaos. It's found in the presence of Christ." ~~LM