Author Archives: Tiffani Hill-Patterson

Help, Thanks, Wow – Anne Lamott

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Santa left Anne Lamott’s Help, Thanks, Wow under the Christmas tree for me this year and I read it in three days, between Christmas gatherings, a 6-year-old’s birthday party, and a night out with my brother and sister-in-law.

I found it calming to read a chapter each evening after I went to bed; it grounded me and helped me feel less alone. Yes, I was surrounded by people who love me, but I still felt lonely. Winter holidays do that to me. This little volume was a comfort and reminded me that God doesn’t care how I pray, only that I do.

“We can say anything to God. It’s all prayer,” Lamott says.

Really? Anything? I believe that’s true. I used to be afraid that if I didn’t say the “right” thing, God wouldn’t like, or maybe even wouldn’t listen to, my prayers. Now I know that He listens to whatever it is, even if I can’t say it. He knows what’s in our hearts, what we desire, what we need.

Lamott writes about these Three Essential Prayers, and I find myself using the first one most often lately: Help.

“Help. Help us walk through this. Help us come through.

“It is the first great prayer.”

Help me get through this 12-hour day. Help me trust again. Help me remember to pay the bills. Help.

The second great prayer is Thanks.

“ ‘Thanks’ can be the recognition that you have been blessed mildly, or with a feeling as intense as despair at the miracle of having been spared.”

Thanks for that dollar I found in my purse. Thanks that it wasn’t a cochlear implant failure. Thanks that everyone arrived safely. Thanks.

The final prayer? It’s one that I think we all could use more of: Wow. Wow!

“ ‘Wow’ means we are not dulled to wonder. We click into being fully present … ”

Wow, look at that sunset! Wow, I did a real pushup! Wow, she brushed her teeth without being reminded! Wow!

I’ve discovered that these three little prayers are all I need, for everyday situations, for extraordinary situations. God knows what I mean when I breathe, yell, or gasp each one-syllable word.

Help. Thanks. Wow.

Amen.

The Autobiography of Santa Claus as told to Jeff Guinn

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If you’ve ever doubted the existence of Santa Claus, you should read The Autobiography of Santa Claus as told to Jeff Guinn. No, really. It’s not your usual Kris Kringle tale. It’s fascinating and flush with historical detail.

The book traces Santa’s life from the beginning, from the time he was a boy named Nicholas growing up in what is now Turkey. After his parents died when he was 9, he was cared for by people at his local church. His generous and kind nature manifested itself early when, as a 12-year-old, he secretly gifted a local man’s daughters with enough silver coins for dowries. He credits his parents’ good example.

“As long as people are remembered by someone, they’re never completely gone. My parents were generous people, and I’m sure that somewhere they’ve enjoyed watching their son go on to such an unexpected – and long – career.”

And the rest is history. Literally. Saint Nicholas and his many faithful friends venture through wars, famine, and disease epidemics, and play roles in many world-changing events while spreading love and joy and kindness throughout the globe.

Would you believe the notorious Attila the Hun is part of the North Pole inner circle? Or that Arthur of the famed roundtable helps with the gift-giving? Would you be surprised to learn that Amelia Earhart wasn’t lost to the sea? Or that Leonardo da Vinci, Sequoyah, and President Teddy Roosevelt still shape world history?

The Autobiography of Santa Claus recounts how Nicholas and his wife, Layla, meet each of these men and women who have made major contributions to human development, like electricity, art, navigation, anatomy, and video games. And it describes how Saint Nicholas came to be known as Kris Kringle, Santa Claus, Father Christmas, and Befana.

If you’re not already a believer, this book just might change your mind. Either way, I hope Santa fills your stocking with peace, love, joy, and a good book.

Illuminata: Thoughts, Prayers, Rites of Passage

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I had planned to review a book of blessings and prayers this month, what with Thanksgiving being right around the corner. It’s a lovely little book filled with lovely prayers, blessings, and proverbs.

But I’ve packed up my 3-bedroom, 2-bath house for sale and I haven’t been able to find the book. I can’t even remember the title. I cannot recall which box I put it in, or whether the box is in my storage unit an hour away or somewhere in my parents’ shed. I’m a bit of a mess right now. I was lucky to find the keyboard I’m typing on.

Since I couldn’t find the book I wanted, I turn to one I’ve always adored: Illuminata: A Return to Prayer by Marianne Williamson. The words in this book have helped comfort me countless times.

Williamson’s “Ceremony of Divorce” gave me closure, even though I read it alone and there was no actual ritual. “May the golden cord that has bound these two in marriage be not violently severed, but carefully and peacefully laid aside, this act forgiven and granted meaning by God Himself.”

Her “Prayer for the Dead” helped soothe a broken heart after the death of a friend’s infant. “For now she is gone, and I pray, dear God, for the strength to remember she has not gone far. For she is with You and shall remain so forever. She remains within me, for we are all in You together.”

There are blessings for our children, our intimacy, and prayers for daily life. But it’s not just a book of meditations. Williamson also discusses the mystery of prayer, what she calls a spiritual revolution, and how we can share our light with others.

One of my favorite meditations is about creativity and work, dedicating it to a Higher Power. “Dear God, I dedicate this work to You. Imprint Your mind upon it, fly with it unto the heavens. Use it to shower Your love onto the world. … ”

What a thought! That a Higher Power would use my work to spread love to the world. It’s both sobering and exciting.

Whether you believe in God, a Higher Power, or follow a different spiritual path, this book offers uplifting, comforting words for most any situation.

Something Wicked – Buzz Books

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The breeze felt good on my skin as I sat in the near dark with my laptop reading about a Voodoo Queen and a bottle tree. My heart skipped a beat as I heard something scrape against the screen door, just as I was reading about a spirit escaping a bottle.

That’s why I don’t usually read spooky stories in the dark … not only do the words creep me out, I end up freaking myself out, too.

Something Wicked is a collection of spooky, creepy-crawly YA stories that’s perfect for the cool, misty evenings of fall. Authors Lena Brown, Heather Dearly, Mari Hestekin, Kelly Parra, Jenny Peterson, and Aaron Smith will have you squirming in your seat or huddling under the covers with their tales of kraken, trolls, goddesses, spiders, and humans who are sometimes prey, sometimes predators.

The stories offer fresh combinations and new twists on classic creature tales – spiders and Greek gods in Arach Wars, trolls who lead double lives in Midnight Troll, and sirens who aren’t all that beautiful in Under Lock and Cay. And some of the stories also include a little romance as a bonus.

The book would be a cool treat in someone’s Halloween bucket or as a download on an e-reader. And if you buy the book, be sure to enter to win a party pack filled with wicked good prizes like a Monster High doll, games, and dessert.

Throwing an All Hallow’s Eve party and want to scare up some tasty treats? Check out the Something Wicked recipe book that includes how-to’s for Candy Corn Cupcakes, Bloodshot Eyeball Cupcakes, and Orange Hocus Pocus Fizz.

And remember to sleep with one eye open … you never know who – or what – is watching you.

Growing a reader

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I’ve always loved to read. Growing up, books and magazines were always lying around at our house. Momma read suspense and romance novels and magazines like Better Homes & Gardens and Woman’s Day. Daddy read Louis L’amour westerns and Field & Stream and Auto Trader. And they still enjoy getting lost in a good story.

However, it was Granma who let me into the world of grown-up reading. She always kept a stack of magazines by her bed, and when I’d spend the night with her in the summer during my tween years, I would read through them all. Cosmopolitan. Glamour. New Woman. Mademoiselle. The National Enquirer. And seed catalogs. Granma has always had the greenest thumb ever, and she grew the biggest, prettiest zinnias and the most red, ripe tomatoes. I’d stay up late reading then get up early and pick beans and shuck corn with the rest of the family.

Back then the late Helen Gurley Brown ran Cosmo and it was about finding yourself before finding a man. I read mostly the career and fashion articles (I wanted to be a well-dressed novelist), but occasionally I’d pore over a more adult piece. I felt like I knew way more than my sixth-grade classmates did after reading Cosmo. (I may have had the knowledge, but I sure didn’t know how to put it into practice.)

When I got a little older, I moved on to her novels. The first one my grandmother and I both read and shared a love for was Gone with the Wind. She lent it to me to read over Christmas break during my sophomore year of high school. I couldn’t put that thick, blue paperback down – I stayed up until two in the morning reading about Scarlett and wondering why she couldn’t see that Rhett was The Man. I felt like a grown-up after reading such a long book! And I felt for Scarlett when she had to harvest those potatoes.

The next was the North and South trilogy by John Jakes (Charles was my favorite character), then we moved on to his Crown Family series and the Kent Family Chronicles. Many more followed, such as John Grisham’s lawyer books (we think we might be distant relatives of John’s), the Da Vinci Code, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, a ton of trashy romances by Sandra Brown, a Jackie Collins or two. Rhett Butler’s People was the last book we shared. So it seems we’ve come full circle.

Granma, who just celebrated her 90th birthday, has always been a free spirit. She has always known how to enjoy life. Whether it was seeing Elvis in small-town Alabama, or telling stories while shelling purple-hulled peas, or going out dancing with her boyfriends in her 60s and 70s, she’s always known how to have a ball. And she’s always known how to pick out a great book. I’d like to think I learned that from her.