Page 271 – Guideposts Articles

Inspired to Re-create the World Jesus Knew

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Meg Belviso

On a dirt road in old Nazareth, a young couple travels under the night sky. The woman is pregnant. She rides a donkey. Her husband walks beside them, past rows of olive trees, and a flock of sheep on a hill.

It could be that night, 2,000 years ago, when Joseph and Mary set out for Bethlehem. Except for the electric lights in the distance, and the occasional plane overhead. This road is in modern-day Israel. It’s part of Nazareth Village, a meticulously recreated Galilean farm. This is their annual Christmas celebration.

My own first visit to Nazareth Village was in springtime. I was part of a group of journalists on the trip of a lifetime: a week in Israel.

Our guide, Marion, took us from one amazing site to another: The River Jordan, where Jesus was baptized, the Mount of the Beatitudes, where he delivered the Sermon on the Mount.

Each day’s activities were more amazing than the last. So we were surprised when she announced our plans for the morning.

“Nazareth Village,” Marion explained, “was the brainchild of Sherry Herschend. She and her husband, Jack, created Silver Dollar City in their hometown of Branson, Missouri. But it was Sherry’s dream to recreate the world Jesus lived in here, in Nazareth.”

The other journalists and I exchanged puzzled looks. I’d heard of Silver Dollar City—it was a recreated town from the old west. It was also a theme park with roller coasters and waterslides.

“I hope we don’t stay long,” said one of the other journalists.

“Yeah, I only care about the real Nazareth,” said another.

Only one journalist didn’t share our trepidation. He just grinned—obviously he knew something we didn’t. “Just wait,” he said.

We reached our destination and I climbed out of the bus. A guide led us through a large door. Actually, it was two doors, one inside the other.

“Back in the first century, everyone had to pass through doors like these to enter a city,” he explained. “The smaller door was for travelers on foot. If they were leading animals, the larger door was open so they could fit through.”

Looking at the ancient door, I was reminded of something. Where had I heard of a door like that before?

“The Gospel of Matthew!” one of the other journalists cried. “For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life and only a few find it.”

Of course, I realized. That must have been what Jesus meant. I had never had a clear picture in my mind of what the narrow and wide gates would look like, but his original audience would have seen these gates all their lives.

Suddenly Jesus’s words, which had always sounded so abstract, were easy to understand.

Our guide then showed us some ancient stonecutting tools. “We all know Jesus was a carpenter,” he said. “But how many old wooden houses have you seen since you’ve been in Israel?”

We laughed. Not too many. “As carpenters in those times, Jesus and his father would have worked more with stone. If you look at the Gospels, Jesus often refers to stonework to explain a point he’s making. The metaphor came naturally to him.”

It might have seemed a small detail, but at the guide’s words my whole perception of Jesus began to shift, his hammer and nails were replaced by mallet and chisel.

I was still getting used to stonecutter Jesus when our guide led us outside. Any fears of roller coasters were immediately dispelled. Nazareth Village was a living archaeological site.

In 1997 the remains of a vineyard were discovered, with the original stone winepress still intact in the bedrock. Nazareth Village had added a donkey-powered olive press, and a synagogue, all made to look just the way they would have back in the first century.

The tour turned out to be the highlight of my trip.

How did the first lady of Silver Dollar City wind up in Nazareth Village? I got in touch with Sherry Herschend as soon as I got home to find out. It turned out Nazareth Village was a dream long before it was a reality.

On the first of many trips to Israel, she visited all the historical sites. As exciting as it was to be where Jesus had once walked, she wished the world Jesus lived in didn’t seem so far away. “I looked around,” she told me over the phone, “and saw nothing but dead stones.”

Back in Missouri she discovered that her friend Pat Boone had felt the same way. “We need to build a Holy Land experience for people.”

Pat wanted to build this new attraction in Missouri, but Sherry felt strongly that it had to be in Israel. It looked like it might not ever happen. Then one day Sherry got a call from Pat about a group in Israel and a man called Dr. Nakhle Bishara.

“Sherry!” he said. “They’re building our dream in Israel! And they didn’t even know it was our dream!” Sherry found out all she could about these dream-builders. “If it was a God project,” she says, “I wanted to be a part of it.”

Sherry joined the board, where her unique experience and expertise turned out to be just what Nazareth Village needed.

Today, Nazareth Village does exactly what Sherry dreamed it would do for so long: bring first-century Israel to life. Going to Nazareth Village really is, as Sherry says, like “visiting Jesus’s hometown.” And what better time to visit than on the anniversary of his birth?

For the Christmas program, staff and volunteers of all ages don first-century clothing and recreate that night so many years ago.

As usual at Nazareth Village, there are a few surprises. According to scholarship, our idea that Joseph and Mary stayed at an inn may come down to a misinterpretation of a Greek word that means guest room.

Small villages did not have hotels. When Joseph and Mary arrived in Bethlehem, they would probably have stayed with family. As more and more relatives arrived for the census, the house would have gotten crowded.

At Nazareth Village, Joseph and Mary walk from room to room, searching for a place for Mary to have her baby.

Instead of a stern innkeeper trying to rent out a stable, they encounter something a little more familiar: a boisterous family reunion. Great aunts baking bread, cousins drinking wine, children getting underfoot, mothers finally getting their babies down for a nap.

From the young couple’s point of view, a manger packed with animals must have looked pretty inviting!

After the presentation is over, visitors step back through the narrow gate, back to the skyscrapers and lights of modern Nazareth. But they bring with them a world where Jesus the stonecutter came to life before their very eyes.

Take a virtual tour via our Nazareth Village slideshow.

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Inspired to Provide Another Kind of Relief

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by David Robertson

I’m a relief pitcher for the New York Yankees, which means I come in to put out the fire if another pitcher gets into trouble, usually late in the game. Sometimes, after a night game in the Bronx, I don’t get home from the stadium till after midnight.

It was 1:00 A.M. when my wife, Erin, and I walked in the door of our apartment April 28 last year.

“I’m going to bed,” Erin said.

“I’ll be in soon,” I said. I wanted to watch the news and unwind from the game. I flipped on the TV.

“An F5 tornado struck downtown Tuscaloosa early this evening,” the news anchor said.

“Erin, come quick!” I yelled.

Tuscaloosa was my home. I’d moved away when I became a ballplayer, but my entire family and most of my friends still live there. It’s where I first fell in love with the game, playing Little League. It’s where I learned to pitch, taking my high school team to the playoffs my senior year.

It’s where I played college ball for the University of Alabama, and started pulling my socks up high, old-school style. My picture even made it onto the wall at one of my favorite barbecue joints down the road from campus. It’s where I proposed to Erin.

It was home and always would be.

We spent the rest of the night on the phone making sure our friends and family were all okay. Finally I fell into bed exhausted, and prayed the most fervent prayer of my life. Lord, please help my hometown. And guide me in what I can do.

The next morning I woke up early to do a TV interview for the MLB Network, and spoke about the devastation.

“What can people do to help tornado survivors?” I was asked.

I paused, thinking about the U of A campus, the First Presbyterian Church downtown where my family belonged. My town, my people. “Prayers are a good start,” I said, “and the United Way. There’s a number that you can text to donate.”

I headed to the stadium for our game. I did several interviews with the media that day to help raise money and awareness. I’d much rather have jumped on a plane to Tuscaloosa, but I’d be busy playing ball through September, hopefully longer. Any real help I could provide would have to wait.

Yet at that moment I felt so powerless. God and the United Way were a pretty good start, but wasn’t there more Erin and I could do? Dejected, I called Erin and told her how I felt.

She was silent a moment. “Then let’s get involved, David. Now. Let’s start a fund. You’ve got a platform.”

After the game that night we brainstormed a name for our foundation and came up with High Socks for Hope. (I wear my uniform socks up to my knees, remember.) Erin got started on a website, highsocksforhope.com.

“For every strikeout I get, I’m pledging one hundred dollars,” I told reporters. I talked about it as much as I could, and since I was having the best season of my career I got to talk a lot, even at the All-Star Game later that year.

Donations came in. Erin connected with all the organizations providing assistance to the victims, including a woman named Judy Holland at a church in town. She put us in touch with people who needed help and saw to it that the money we raised went directly to them.

More than anything, though, I needed to be on the ground. We landed in Tuscaloosa late one Thursday night a month after the storm hit. My team was traveling to Seattle and it was the first day we hadn’t had a game since April 27.

I jumped at the opportunity to visit, even if I had only 24 hours. We asked a film crew to join us. The Yankees organization was so helpful in getting the word out.

“I’ll drive,” I said, but I had a terrible time even finding my way. Street signs were gone. So were age-old landmarks. Entire neighborhoods were reduced to rubble. It was a wasteland.

The place where my family always bought our Christmas trees looked like it had been through a giant wood chipper. My heart was in my mouth. Erin squeezed my arm.

We saw someone I knew from high school. I gave him a hug. “That was my house,” he said, pointing. My gaze followed his finger. Nothing resembling a house there. “I took cover in the tub. When the storm passed, the bathroom was the only room left.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it.

The summer went by in a blur of e-mails, conference calls and, of course, ball games. Tuscaloosa and its people were never far from my thoughts and prayers. And my prayers were frequent. Sometimes it was all I could do.

Judy was truly a Godsend, for us and for families like the Johnsons. “Their son, Anthony, has a genetic disorder. Before the tornado, they couldn’t afford homeowners’ insurance and pay his medical bills,” Judy said. “They lost everything.”

We kept fund-raising. I struck out 100 batters from April to October, which meant ten thousand dollars for Tuscaloosa. My teammates signed baseballs for auctions and helped with other events.

Erin and I researched everything from Alabama construction laws to FEMA procedures. We called in favors from every contact we could think of, including Ryan Dempster, a pitcher for the Chicago Cubs whose daughter has the same disease as Anthony.

It was nearly November by the time the Yankees’ season ended. “Let’s get back to Tuscaloosa,” I told Erin as soon as I’d cleared out my locker.

Judy met us our first day back and took us all over town. “See over there?” she said. “Those are some of the Habitat homes your foundation helped sponsor, and down this way…well, just wait til you see how much progress they’ve made.”

It was great to be able to put faces to voices and e-mails. I got hugged by so many people I lost count.

Anthony’s family was still living in temporary housing, but with our help along with Ryan Dempster’s foundation and Habitat for Humanity, their new home will be ready before long. I got to meet Anthony and his folks and we all said a prayer of thanks together.

Then there was Robert Reed, manager of a trailer park just outside of town. The tornado had touched down right on top of the park while most residents were still inside their homes. Robert rescued 12 people from the rubble.

“We just had to meet you,” I told him as I shook his hand. “It’s an honor.”

“Likewise,” he said. “And thank you. For everything.”

Robert Reed. Anthony and his family. All the folks that Judy introduced us to.

Folks in Alabama are still picking up the pieces, still rebuilding homes and lives. God calls each of us to do what we can. That’s how we rebuild. Together.

Download your FREE ebook, True Inspirational Stories: 9 Real Life Stories of Hope & Faith

Inspired to Notice Things

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Rosie Schaap

Friday. My flight’s overbooked. And there’s a ruckus at the gate. I’m heading to Des Moines, Iowa, to meet Poet Laureate Ted Kooser at the Des Moines National Poetry Festival, but poetry is far from my mind. I’m anxious.

Why has travel become so stressful? Finally, we board. I settle in and go over my notes.

I’ve admired Ted Kooser’s work for ages. In school I copied his poem “The Red Wing Church” onto a sheet of loose-leaf paper and tucked it into my backpack like a good-luck charm. It’s about an old dilapidated church—no steeple, no congregation—transformed into:

…Homer Johnson’s barn, but it’s still a church,

with clumps of tiger lilies in the grass…

That sense of sacredness remains. It’s all around, in fact. But lately I’ve just been too busy to notice.

“Rosie from Guideposts,” Ted greets me the next day at the Hotel Fort Des Moines, his voice warm and assured. Now 66, Ted’s appointment as poet laureate was recently renewed by Librarian of Congress James H. Billington, and Ted won the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for poetry.

Still, I discover that Ted Kooser is a regular guy. Who happens to be remarkable.

“They put me in ‘The Presidential Suite,’” Ted says, tickled. “It’s bigger than the house I grew up in!” That was in Ames. Ted has lived in Nebraska for decades, but he was in Ames last night, reading at Iowa State, his alma mater.

He pours us each a glass of water and eases into an armchair. “In Ames I visited the church I attended as a boy and spent some time there,” he says wistfully.

“There was an old man, Seaman Knapp, with a collection of bells. At Christmas he always did a bell-ringing in front of the church, running up and down this long table. It’s so sweet in my memory, and he’s been gone fifty years.”

Ted pays close attention to people, places. But he knows it isn’t always easy.

“You drive home from work, find yourself in the garage and can’t remember a thing that’s happened between when you left and when you arrived,” Ted says. “To really participate in life we have to figure out ways of being aware of what’s around us.”

Sure, I think. But how do you do that with a busy life, work, family? “The poet Linda Gregg has her students notice six things a day. Lots of days I don’t notice six things. I’m not always successful,” Ted admits. “But I like paying attention to ordinary things.”

Six things. I make a note. Maybe I’ll try that.

Like the great American poet Wallace Stevens, Ted started out in insurance. His career lasted more than three decades. He rose daily at 4:30 A.M. to write before heading to work. Sometimes poetry and business intersected.

“In the late sixties Bankers Life Nebraska hired an artist to take photos throughout the building, things we passed every day. He gave a slide show and built a production out of the beauty of these ordinary things,” Ted says.

“Poems are like that. They say, ‘Here’s something you may not have looked at. I’m going to show it to you in a way that will make you notice.’”

I ask how poetry took hold in him. “I had an ordinary family, lived in an ordinary town. I wanted to be different. Mysterious. The arts were a way to be different. So I painted and wrote poems.”

Soon his “ordinary family” and “ordinary town” became the subjects of his poetry. Revealing their magic came with maturity.

It troubles Ted when people feel that poetry isn’t for them, that it takes a special skill or degree to enjoy it. His mission is to bring new readers to poetry, to reach regular people in small towns—people like him.

Poetry is a democratic pleasure. The reader brings as much to the page as the author. Nothing pleases Ted more than helping people understand that.

Recently he heard from a new reader. Poetry never interested her, but she’d heard Ted’s poems on public radio. They resonated with her experience of rural life.

“That’s who I want to read poems. Oftentimes a man will come up at the end of a reading and say, ‘I’ve never been to a poetry reading before. My wife dragged me here. But I liked it. I think I’ll read some poems.’”

Ted frets if a line of his poetry is too difficult. Clarity and accessibility are his cornerstones. In his insurance days he’d run poems by his secretary. “I’d say, ‘Does this make sense to you?’ and she’d say, ‘No.’ I’d go home and work on it until it did.”

We’ve talked for more than an hour when Ted excuses himself to get more water. “Dry mouth,” he explains, a lasting effect of the treatment he underwent for oral cancer.

He returns and I ask about that. “June 1998 I went to the dentist. I had a sore spot on my tongue. The dentist referred me for a biopsy right away.”

He was diagnosed with stage 4A cancer. “My surgeon, Dr. Bill, said a marvelous thing: ‘Radiation is gonna be hard. But you are about to enter one of life’s great affirmative experiences.’”

I lean closer. “Did you believe him?”

“I wasn’t in a position to speculate!”

Following his treatment, Ted took walks to regain his strength. Each time he’d bring something home to write about. “Here was a way to take disorder and anxiety, compress them into something small and orderly and take assurance from that.”

Ted was changing, and so were his poems. Now he says, “There’s a real spirit of celebration. I tend to be quite easily moved. More so, having survived cancer.

“I saw people in waiting rooms who were almost beatific in their love of life, their desire to live. There was a tremendous amount of grace in those waiting rooms.” One poem, “At the Cancer Clinic,” records that situation, and ends:

…Grace

fills the clean mold of this moment

and all the shuffling magazines grow still.

Dr. Bill framed a copy of “At the Cancer Clinic” and hung it in the hospital. In hopes, surely, that those who see it will draw strength from it and, perhaps, grace too. I share with Ted my simple belief that poetry just makes life better.

“It makes life bigger too. Suddenly an artichoke is more than a thing,” he explains. “Joe Hutchinson has a one-line poem, ‘Artichoke,’ that says: ‘O heart weighed down by so many wings.’

“You get that poem in your head and go to the grocery. That crate of artichokes will never look the same. There’s something special about it.”

That night the Hoyt Sherman Place Theater is packed with people who have come to hear Ted and three other poets read. I scan the crowd and can’t help thinking, Are there men here, grudgingly accompanying their wives, who will leave full of wonder with a new way of seeing?

Sunday. I’m flying home. Try to notice six things. Plump beads of condensation on the window. The earrings—silver filigree set with smoky blue stones—on the woman beside me. A crying toddler, with a shock of yellow curls. That’s three.

Ted was right; it’s hard to pay attention. But I feel its effects instantly. Something much like grace. There’s something special about the window. The earrings. The child. They’re bigger. And I feel connected to all of them. For that powerful feeling, that sense of sacredness, I can never be too busy.

Download your FREE ebook, Rediscover the Power of Positive Thinking, with Norman Vincent Peale

Inspired by the Sparkle Box

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Jill Hardie

Every year, under our family’s Christmas tree is a small box wrapped in sparkly silver foil. And all of us—my husband, Tim, our kids, Jack and Katie, and I—look forward to opening that gift more than any other present under the tree. After all, it transformed our Christmas.

The box with the sparkly wrapping wasn’t always there. The first time it appeared was when Jack was seven and Katie was 15.

I found myself struggling with the usual holiday stress. Did the kids get enough presents? A skateboard, Legos and a sled for Jack; books, earrings and some new CDs for Katie. Did I have enough stuff for their stockings? Should I get bigger stockings?

One day I threw up my hands in frustration. Is this what Christmas is supposed to be about? Really?

I love giving at Christmastime, especially to my family. But as a parent, wasn’t it also my responsibility to teach my kids why we give on Christmas? I felt like my family had been pulled into the vortex of commercialism and needed a way out.

Inspiration struck while Tim and I strolled with the kids through our church’s “Alternative Gift Market.” Organizations that help those in need, like Habitat for Humanity, Heifer International and the YWCA of Canton’s homeless shelter, had set up tables explaining the programs you can support.

In years past, we donated art lessons to a child in honor of my mother, an art lover. For my brother, a young, single guy, we donated “a flock of chicks,” which made him laugh and helped a poor farm family in need.

That night, Tim and I made a deal with the kids. This year, each one of us would give something to people less fortunate. “Every time we make a donation, we’ll write it down,” I said. “This will be our gift in honor of a very special someone.”

“Who, Mom?” the kids asked.

“You’ll see. Now let’s get going!”

Over the next few weeks, the kids got busy.

“Mom, my class is collecting mittens for the poor,” Jack told us when we picked him up from elementary school one day. We stopped at a department store and he picked out several pairs. Katie earned money and picked out gifts to help her Girl Scout troop fill shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child.

One evening at the dinner table, we passed around a catalog from Heifer International and picked a goat to give to a family in a poor country.

On Christmas Eve, I put all the gifts we’d recorded into an old jewelry box and wrapped it in sparkly foil. Then I tucked it under the tree.

“Who’s that for?” the kids asked on Christmas morning.

We opened it first, and I unfolded the pieces of paper inside. “Jesus taught us, whatever we do for those in need, we do for him,” I said.

Jack and Katie sat quietly beside the tree and beamed with each gift I read—the perfect birthday presents for Jesus.

Filling that sparkly box has been our Christmas tradition ever since. Last year, Jack, who was saving his money for an iPod touch, donated half his savings to buy mosquito nets to help prevent the deadly spread of malaria in developing countries. Katie matched him by giving money to a water-filter project in Africa.

That small sparkly box transformed our Christmas. It reminded us to remember the greatest gift of all on Christmas.

Watch as Jill Hardie discusses her book, The Sparkle Box.

Download your FREE ebook, True Inspirational Stories: 9 Real Life Stories of Hope & Faith

Inspired by ‘The King’s Speech’

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Anne Simpkinson

Talk about inspirational! Last weekend I caught the film, The King’s Speech, which will most certainly garner a host of awards. (Colin Firth, who plays the reluctant King George VI who inherits the throne after his brother, Edward VIII, abdicates, has already carried home a Golden Globe Award.)

The movie’s title is a play on words. The king’s speech is both the stammer that plagues the Duke of York as well as the eloquent war-time message that he delivers once he is crowned. While I could wax eloquent about the acting, cinematography, costume design and script, the personal growth element of the story is how someone, who feels so undeserving and indeed handicapped with a debilitating stutter, manages nonetheless to find his voice and rise to the challenge of leading a country, overcoming his disability and fears in the process.

I know that in areas where I feel unworthy, I may shy away from taking on challenges just as the Duke dreaded the inevitable mantle of leadership falling to him along with the task of inspiring a nation battered by war. But through determination, hard work, courage and dignity, he achieved his goal. Of course, he didn’t accomplish the turnaround alone. He was supported by a loving wife (played by Helen Bonham Carter) and an eccentric speech therapist (Geoffrey Rush), with whom he forges a life-long bond of friendship.

Just like the Duke of York who became King George VI, we too can go beyond our limited self-image and realize our potential. We too can be crowned with success by facing our fears and working hard towards our goals—with a little help from our friends, of course.

Ina Garten’s Tuscan Turkey Roulade

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Ina Garten

Ingredients

Good olive oil

1 ½ c. chopped yellow onion (1 large)

¾ tsp. whole fennel seeds

2 Tbsp. minced garlic (6 cloves)

1 Tbsp. chopped fresh sage leaves, plus 4 whole sage leaves

1 Tbsp. minced fresh rosemary leaves

1 whole butterflied boneless turkey breast with skin on (5 to 6 lbs.)

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

4 Tbsp. (1/2 stick) cold unsalted butter

4 oz. thinly sliced Italian prosciutto

1 c. dry white wine, such as Chablis

Preparation

1. Preheat the oven to 350°. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a medium (10-inch) sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion and fennel seeds and cook for 6 to 8 minutes, tossing occasionally, until the onion is tender. Add the garlic and cook for one minute. Off the heat, add the chopped sage and the rosemary and set aside to cool.

2. Meanwhile, open the turkey breast on a cutting board, skin side down. Sprinkle the meat with 4 teaspoons salt and 1 1/2 teaspoons pepper. When the onion mixture is cool, spread it evenly on the meat. Grate the butter and sprinkle it on top. Arrange the prosciutto on top to totally cover the meat and filling.

3. Starting at one long end of the turkey breast, roll the meat up jelly roll style to make a compact cylindrical roulade, ending with the seam side down. Tie the roulade tightly with kitchen twine at 2- to 2 1/2-inch intervals to ensure that it will roast evenly. Slip the whole sage leaves under the twine down the center of the roulade.

4. Place the roulade, seam side down, in a roasting pan and pat the skin dry with paper towels. Brush the skin with 2 tablespoons olive oil, and sprinkle with 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Pour the wine and 1 cup of water in the roasting pan (not over the turkey). Roast for 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hours, until the skin is golden brown and the internal temperature is 150°. Remove from the oven, cover with foil, and allow to rest for 15 minutes. Remove the string, slice crosswise in 1/2-inch thick slices and serve warm with the pan juices.

Serves 8 to 10.

Nutritional Information: Calories: 450; Fat: 12g; Cholesterol: 140mg; Sodium: 680mg; Total Carbohydrates: 7g; Dietary Fiber: 1g; Sugars: 1g; Protein: 77g.

Read Ina Garten’s inspiring story from Guideposts’ Joys of Christmas 2020!

Iconic Depictions of Christ Around the World

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Brett Leveridge

These grand statues of Jesus span the globe and tower to impressive heights, inciting a feeling of awe and wonder. Located all over the world, these iconic statues of Jesus are popular tourist attractions and inspire millions of people.

TRAVEL TO SOUTHERN ITALY & THE AMALFI COAST WITH GUIDEPOSTS! DON’T MISS THIS AMAZING 12-DAY TOUR.

How to Use Mulling Spices for Cider and Tea

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Holly Lebowitz Rossi

“Mulled” is a warming, comforting word that brings to mind steaming mugs of flavorfully brewed drinks sipped by a cozy fire on a dark winter evening.

But with the myriad “mulling spices” on supermarket shelves, how to choose? For that matter, maybe you could put together your own mulling spices to add a personal touch to winter coziness.

Mulling spices have some things in common. They’re warming, deeply flavorful, aromatic and deliciously pair-able with each other. Here are the most common spices you’ll see in a mulling mixture:

–Cinnamon sticks, broken into pieces
–Star anise
–Whole nutmeg, broken into pieces
–Whole cloves
–Allspice berries

In addition to these classic spices, other flavors can enrich your mulled mixture, such as:

–Dried orange or lemon peel
–Crystallized ginger pieces

To make a mulled beverage, simply set a saucepan over low heat and pour in your choice of base. While many enjoy mulled wine, mulling spices also elevate apple cider into a deliciously warming drink and spices steeped in hot water make a flavorful, comforting tea.

Gather a small handful of your spices together to prepare them for their warm bath. I use loose-leaf tea bags (I like the “T-Sac” brand, which can be composted along with the spices when you’ve finished using them), though you can also use cheesecloth. Add the spices to the bag or cloth, and either twist the top of the bag tightly shut, or use kitchen twine to tie the cheesecloth closed.

There’s no need to shop for special equipment, though. You could simply float your spices in the liquid, using a strainer to remove them when you’re ready to drink, or you could pour your beverage through a fine sieve.

You can simmer mulling spices for a long time, though after 20 or 30 minutes your cider or tea will be infused with a deep flavor and scent. Sometimes I fill a slow cooker with apple cider and leave it on a warm setting all day. This comes in particularly handy if you are hosting people outdoors on a chilly afternoon. If you’re inside, it also fills your home with a profoundly comforting aroma, similar to a stovetop simmer.

What is your favorite way to use mulling spices?

How to Make Baked Rice, Your New Favorite Quick Dinner

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Holly Lebowitz Rossi

Rice was first cultivated more than 10,000 years ago, so to call it a “staple food” is a bit of an understatement. The ways to prepare and serve this simple, nourishing grain are many, and modern technology—in the form of rice cookers and pressure cookers—offer ways to make the dish not only ubiquitous, but easy.

I adore the warm, comforting smell of cooking rice, but I confess that I often struggle with cooking it properly on the stovetop. I prefer to make it there, to save myself from washing up a bulky piece of equipment—an ironic choice, given that cleaning the crusty bits from the bottom of a rice pot isn’t exactly a time-saver.

Recently, baked rice has become a revelation in my house. In the same 20-25 minutes it takes to steam white rice in a pot, I can bake a pan of fluffy, flavorful rice without any sputtering water, chattering lids, or burnt bottoms. I first encountered baked rice in articles and cookbooks by the Israeli-English Yotam Ottolenghi, and many of the flavors I’ve tried so far are Mediterranean and Middle Eastern. The possibilities are endless, however, once you understand the basics.

“The basics” are just that—basic. One cup of white rice to 2 cups of boiling water or broth, some salt, a bit of melted butter or olive oil, aluminum foil, a casserole dish, and a very hot oven (475 degrees). Mix the ingredients in the pan, cover tightly with foil, and bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Uncover the pan to discover perfectly cooked, fluffy rice.

But that’s only the beginning! You can jazz up your rice with any number of flavorings. Here are three I’ve discovered so far:

Spanish Rice
Paprika, chili powder, garlic powder, onions, cumin, and tomato sauce conspire to make this recipe, a fabulous accompaniment to a weeknight taco dinner.

Mediterranean Mint Rice
This recipe from Ottolenghi’s most recent cookbook, Simple, involves topping hot rice with a quick fresh salsa made of bracing mint and briny olives. Some browned ground beef or lamb makes this dish a quick, tasty weeknight meal.

Roasted Tomato Rice
Another recipe from Ottolenghi’s Simple, this dish can be prepped in the morning and popped into the oven in time for a quick dinner. Rich with tomatoes, shallots and garlic, it’s both flavorful and filling.

Have you tried baked rice? What are your favorite easy weeknight dinner hacks?

How Three Kings Day Is Celebrated Around the World

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Alexandra Chipkin

We’ve all heard of the Three Wise Men, aka the Three Kings, but did you know that they had their own holiday, too? January 6th is known as Three Kings Day and is celebrated around the world with a variety of unique traditions. Here are a few of our favorite from across the globe.

How Parents and Adult Children Can Travel Together

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Brooke Obie

Whether you’ve got a big trip planned or you’re spending a day with your family in a nearby town, you may think parents and adult children traveling together could be challenging. After several years of wonderful trips with my parents, I’ve learned traveling with family can be rewarding, fun, and easy. And, I’ve got some practical advice to help make your trips go smoothly too.

When my parents joined me in Paris for their 30th wedding anniversary back in 2012, we didn’t plan on starting an annual tradition of traveling together. But the next year, around the same time as their anniversary and my birthday, they followed me to New York City to celebrate. Then the next year we wound up on the Vegas strip and took a helicopter down to the Grand Canyon. Then two years in a row we met up for a road trip down to Myrtle Beach. But this year, for their 35th wedding anniversary, we went all out, traveling the farthest we’ve ever traveled together, to my absolute favorite place on earth: Hawaii.

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Through our many treks together, I’ve picked up some tips about how parents and adult children can travel together. Here are 6 ways to ensure you enjoy your intergenerational vacation.

1) Make Sure There’s Something for Everyone

It was easy for my parents and I to decide to go to Hawaii–it’s paradise! But we each had our own ideas about what would make our trip fun. My dad was satisfied to stay in Waikiki–a place he visits for work once a month–but my mom really wanted to venture off of Oahu and onto Maui. So, we split our vacation between the two islands. Since my dad rarely asks to do anything, I knew when he asked for us to take the Atlantis Submarines adventure on Oahu down to the depths of the ocean (ka moana hohonu), we had to do that first. We ventured down to the piers in Waikiki, took a relaxing boat cruise to the submarine in the middle of the ocean, and explored coral reefs, sunken ships and airplanes, and schools of fish 111 feet beneath the sea. The only other thing he really wanted to do was to walk on the beach in the mornings, so we got up early and walked with him.

My mom really wanted to shop, so I took her to a local shop that sold made-in-Hawaii products, and I ventured off on my own one day to see ‘Iolani Palace, the monument of the former Hawaiian monarchy, and learned of the tragic betrayal of Queen Liliuokalani, Hawaii’s last monarch before annexation into the U.S. Though everyone wasn’t up to go to the palace, they enjoyed hearing about what I’d learned later. It’s great to do activities together, but leave some space for people to go off on their own and explore their own interests for a little while. It’ll make the time you’re together even more special.

2) Choose Meaningful Activities

When you choose to share activities you love–and why you love them–with your family, it enhances all of your enjoyment of the experience, as you all learn a little more about each other. Maui is second only to Kaua’i on my list of favorite places in the world, so I was thrilled to put together a Maui itinerary of amazing experiences to share with my parents. When we landed on Maui, the first thing I did was rent a car and drive my parents up to Haleakala Crater, 10,000 feet above sea level. With it’s red-orange clay ridges, ocean blue sky and white puffy clouds, it’s one of the most stunning and serene places on earth, and a breathtaking view of God’s creativity.

That afternoon, we saw Ulalena, the play that shows the tragic and triumphant history of Hawaii through song, dance and jaw-dropping acrobatics. This was my second time seeing the play and its heartfelt performances still moved me to tears and taught my parents a great deal they didn’t know about Hawaiian history. I then took my parents a few doors down the boardwalk from the Maui Theater to the Lahaina Grill for dinner where I had my favorite meal–the pink snapper–and shared with them bread and Lahaina Grill’s signature rosemary and garlic butter. To our pleasant surprise, the owner of the restaurant, Jurg Munch, stopped over to say hello, and we were able to gush about all of our meals. He was so pleased with our enjoyment that he gave us copies of the recipes for our meals so we (meaning, my mom!) could make them back on the mainland.

Next, I checked us into the Ritz-Carlton Kapalua–my favorite hotel on the island–and not just because it’s a gorgeous hotel with a pristine beach. The Ritz is the first hotel on Maui that heeded the protests of native Hawaiians and redesigned their resort so as not to interfere with native sacred burial grounds. They also led the way in hiring Hawaiian icon Clifford Nae’ole as the cultural adviser for the property. Many other resorts in Hawaii followed their lead in creating cultural adviser positions to ensure that the properties are respectful and beneficial to native Hawaiians in some way. King Clifford, as I affectionately call him because of all he’s been able to do to advance Hawaiian people and culture throughout the island and the world, founded and spearheads at the Ritz the annual Celebration of the Arts–which brings together Polynesian ethnic groups from all over to celebrate and share history, culture and art with the masses and each other. I’ve written for Mysterious Ways about how the hiuwai (Hawaiian sunrise cleansing ceremony) I did with Clifford in 2014 impacted my life. So I was excited to share that 5:30 a.m. ritual with my parents.

Though Clifford couldn’t lead the ceremony for us this time, he sent his friends, kumus (teachers) Kalapana Kollars and Anuhea Yagi to lead us in the hiuwai ritual on the beach. To the sound of nothing but gentle waves, my parents and I laid down our burdens in the ocean, reconnected to God, and came out of the water jubillant, giving praise for a new day and the rising of the sun, perfectly situated before us, just over the mountains in the distance. It’s the kind of ritual in the perfect setting that can crack your heart open and giveway to fully loving everything around you, as God intended. Sharing the hiuwai with my parents and then hiking to nearby Makalua-puna Point made for an unforgettable bonding moment.

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3) Google Activities and Accommodations in Advance.

Make sure everyone knows what the accommodations are supposed to look like so there’s no surprise or disappointment when you arrive at your destination. Also, research the activities you’re going to be doing together, to make sure that everyone will be able to participate. My mom had a hip replacement last year, so when I saw that our Atlantis submarine adventure required everyone to be able to climb and descend from a vertical ladder, I checked with her first, to make sure she wore closed toe shoes and felt comfortable on a ladder. When we drove up to Haleakala Crater, I’d packed ginger candy for us to chew on to avoid nausea that can come from driving around the narrow mountain roads’ twists and turns. I also packed bottled water, bread and Surfing Goat Dairy cheese (my favorite and a Maui staple!) to stave off altitude sickness. Unfortunately, my mom didn’t like the snacks and didn’t drink enough water, so she did get altitude sickness and my dad wasn’t properly dressed for the 50-degree weather we encountered so high up. We ended up leaving Haleakala sooner rather than later. Lesson learned: pack a light jacket and something everyone wants to snack on!

4) Get Social

More than 30 years separate me from my parents, but one thing my mom and I both love is posting photos on social media. If you decide as a family that posting vacation pictures is okay with everyone, share them on your social media platforms and tag your family members in them. Come up with a hashtag that everyone posting can use so you can all find your pictures quickly. Ohana means family in Hawaiian, so our hashtag for this trip was #OhanaTour2017. Just another fun way to revel in the memories as you’re making them.

5) Avoid Controversial Topics

Just because you’re family doesn’t guarantee you’ll agree on everything. In fact, at this stage in the parent-adult child relationship, you probably know exactly what might set someone off and jeopardize your fun trip. Avoid those topics like the plague! There’s a time and place for tough and necessary conversations, but your fantastic vacation is not one of them. Resign yourselves to enjoying your trip and enjoying each other. If you see the conversation spiraling into a bad place, steer the conversation back to something pleasant. Resolve to keep the peace and remember the purpose of your vacation: bonding.

6) Embrace Change

As children transition to adulthood, the parent-child relationship and the expectations and responsibilities of each are bound to change. Embrace it! Vacationing together when all parties are adults and can communicate their wants, needs and expectations with more emotional maturity provides a perfect opportunity to deepen your family bond. Whether childhood was idyllic or volatile, adulthood allows a chance for everyone involved to start again—if all parties agree to do so—and forge a relationship that can be healing and enjoyable. It was a blessing for me that my parents were able to let go of their roles and identities as my providers and to instead allow me to treat them to amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experiences, to teach them something new and to give back in some small way what they’ve given to me my entire life. When you let go of the past and your former roles in each other’s lives, you can get excited about building something new together.

Brooke Obie and her family visited the Ritz-Carlton, Kapalua, Atlantis Submarines Waikiki and Maui Theatre’s Ulalena courtesy of each corporation. Her favorite experiences are highlighted in this article.

How Olympian Mirai Nagasu Fought to Make History

Posted on March 11, 2026April 10, 2026 by Jessica Toomer

Today Mirai Nagasu is a history-making Olympic figure skater for Team USA. But four years ago, she was eating In-N-Out burger with friend and fellow team member Adam Rippon on the roof of her house while the rest of their teammates were competing at the 2014 Olympic Games in Sochi.

That year, both figure skaters had narrowly missed making the team with the U.S. Olympic committee choosing to send a lower ranked skater in Nagasu’s place despite her fantastic performance winning bronze at the 2014 U.S. Championships.

The experience was heartbreaking for Nagasu, a California native and daughter of immigrants who took to the ice at age five.

“I considered quitting,” Nagasu tells Guideposts.org. “But at the end of the day I thought about how I would be retiring from figure skating without a true defining moment, and I didn’t want to retire based on a decision that wasn’t even mine. I felt like I could still do more and better.”

Better for Nagasu translated to a free-skate during the team competition that would go down in the books as a defining performance, not just for Nagasu and for Team USA, but for women’s figure skating. At the 2018 Games in Pyeongchang earlier this year, Nagasu became the first American woman to land a triple axel (a forward-facing jump that requires a skater to spin three times in the air before landing) in competition and just the third woman in history to achieve the feat. She won another bronze medal with Team USA at the Games.

“I was grateful for every moment of the Olympics,” Nagasu says. “I made it in 2010 and then I didn’t get to go in 2014, and that was how I learned that making the Olympics is not an opportunity that many people even have the chance to experience. To make another team eight years later, it really put things in perspective for me.”

Now Nagasu is competing again, swapping out Olympic ice for a crowded ballroom dancefloor, and going toe-to-toe with a handful of famous athletes, including friend Rippon, on Dancing with the Stars.

“I think that because I am a figure skater, I’m really enjoying dancing to music,” Nagasu says of the competition. “I’m having so much fun.”

It shows in her performance; the DWTS judges gave her and her partner Alan Bernsten stellar scores for their salsa routine last week and a the first perfect 10 score of the season on last night’s episode.

“Alan and I did a little prayer right before our music started and it was kind of a surreal experience,” Nagasu recalls of the pair’s first dance together.

To win the coveted Mirror Ball Trophy, she’s borrowing the same strategy she used for the Olympics on DWTS: hours and hours of old-fashioned hard work and practice.

“When we first learned the number I was like, ‘Oh my god, the music is so fast. I won’t be able to keep up with you.’ But when we performed, it almost felt slow because we had rehearsed it so many times.”

Doing the show with her best friend Rippon, who also scored 10s last night, has made the competition even more memorable.

“I love Adam so much,” Nagasu says, “[But] I think there’s a competitive nature to all of us. As a competitive figure skater, I look at the field and I’m like, ‘I want to be the best.’”

No matter the results of the competition, she knows she has a solid support system in her family.

Her parents, who immigrated from Japan 30 years ago, have worked hard to make sure Nagasu could pursue her Olympic dreams and now, with an Olympic bronze medal to their family name, they’re just enjoying the journey with her, sitting front row as she tries to add another title to the list.

“I owe everything to my parents,” Nagasu says. “My life, my goals, my dreams. To have put my Olympic medal around my parents’ necks, that meant everything because even though I had to put in the hours and work, and I was doing all of it, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my parents’ support, financially and emotionally. On some tough days I had to learn to push myself and that perseverance didn’t just grow out of anywhere. It was something my parents taught me.”

Nagasu hopes her story can teach others something too. Despite missing an opportunity to compete in Sochi, she continued pursuing her dream. At the age of 24 she was one of the oldest competitors on the ice in South Korea, and when she decided to learn the triple axel, the most difficult jump in the sport for women, she did so knowing that most figure skaters stop learning new jumps in their early teenage years.

In other words, Nagasu shouldn’t have been able to land that triple axel in Pyeongchang. If she were any other skater, she might not have even made it to a second Olympics.

“It’s something that I’m really proud of,” Nagasu says of her comeback and the direction her life has taken after the Olympic Games. “I hope people relate to my story. When people tell you that you can’t, and you genuinely believe that you can, you just have to make it happen. Sometimes, you just have to get up and keep fighting.”

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