Bookshelves, Snowy Winks, A New Chapter, and Big News

My love for books began in childhood, nestled in the comfort of my mom reading to me. It blossomed when she taught at a Montessori school, and I tagged along, losing myself in the shelves of her classroom. Later, when she became the town librarian, I would spend hours shelving and re-shelving books—an absolute dream for a lover of books and words. I’d come home with stacks of books, devouring them one by one or dipping into multiple stories at once, a habit I carry even now.

This love for books eventually transformed into a love for crafting my own words—long letters, notes in books gifted to friends, journals filled with musings, and even research papers and emails. Writing became a way to connect, reflect, and express the beauty of life’s complexities and connections.

When Jon and I were in graduate school, libraries became our sanctuary. Every Saturday, we’d sit in quiet corners, coffee in hand, he immersed in his studies for PA school and me for my degrees in education. Even after we got married, among the bookshelves in the library remained a place where our dreams took root. Jon studied medical texts while I explored topics from gardening to photography, continually gathering knowledge for the life we were building together.

When we prepared for the birth of our first baby, I dreamed of creating a nursery filled with love and stories. Among the carefully chosen pieces—a crib, a changing table, a treasured Noah’s Ark cabinet gifted by my parents—was one item we couldn’t find: the perfect bookshelf. Jon, ever resourceful and handy, read a book and built one himself for our growing family and me. That treasured bookshelf, still in our home today, holds not only the books I collected as a teacher and mother but also the stories of our family.

Over the years, homeschooling and supporting fellow authors and my love for learning and reading added to my ever-growing collection of books. For over a decade, I’ve searched for a specific kind of bookshelf to complement Jon’s creation. He had planned to build them for me in 2020, In the summer of 2020, as life shifted with new challenges and loss, that search and desire to build was set aside. Cancer and caregiving took precedence, and while my love for books remained, so much else faded into the background.

Still, even amid grief, God has been rewriting my story. Slowly, I’ve been picking up the pieces and making space for the things that bring joy and healing—including those beloved books. They remain scattered, like shattered pieces of my heart, each trying to find its place to land.

This week, serendipity intervened. After years of searching, I found not one but two bookshelves that matched my vision perfectly. Their sturdy, unique design reminded me of Jon’s craftsmanship. I almost didn’t go to pick them up—the snow made the drive uncertain—but something told me I had to go. My son encouraged me, echoing his dad’s, Jon’s, practical, supportive spirit: “Mom, they’re exactly what you’ve been looking for.”

The drive felt like a chapter from one of our family’s adventures, complete with unexpected snow flurries and familiar places from my life with Jon. My daughter riding with me remarked it felt like a Hallmark movie as we drove toward the mountains, and she wasn’t wrong. The weather mirrored so many significant days in my life—our engagement, wedding, the births of our children, and now this moment.

These bookshelves, fitting perfectly in my car and my heart, arrived on a snowy day that held even deeper significance. It was also the day I became a published author, contributing a chapter to a book about a saint who interceded during one of the most challenging seasons of my life.  It was the very day I could finally share with those closest to me that my chapter in a collaborative book had opened for pre-orders. I can’t get over the beautiful synchronicity of finding the bookshelf on the very same day pre-orders opened for The Cloud of Witnesses, the book that includes a chapter I contributed.

The joy of finally saying, “It’s real! You can Pre-Order it now!” was made even sweeter by these shelves showing up at the perfect moment—a gift to hold the chapter of my life that had been so painful to live through yet was now bound with grace. While Jon isn’t here to share in this joy, I felt his presence in every detail—the snow, the journey, and the shelves themselves.

Adding to the serendipity, the woman I bought the shelves from shares my mom’s name—a little nudge from heaven reminding me that both Jon and my mom are also close in this story.

The bookshelves will hold more than just books. They’ll be brimming with journals filled with memories, stories of love and loss, and now, my very own book—a chapter about a season of our life that changed everything. A season that was marked by pain and uncertainty yet was also infused with grace.

These shelves, the ones Jon had once hoped to build (or buy) for me, now stand as a symbol of the chapters already written and those yet to come. They are more than furniture; they are a poetic image for the way life holds our stories—some bittersweet, others bursting with hope. Finding them on a snowy day so connected to Jon feels like a gift, a gentle reminder of the grace that carries us through life’s unexpected turns.

It feels fitting that on this day of such significance, I can also share how St. Charbel’s intercession brought hope and strength during one of the darkest seasons of my life—a story I was honored to include in The Cloud of Witnesses.

As I step into this new chapter—not just as a writer, but as a published author and someone continuing to make space for healing—I’m reminded that the best stories often have unexpected twists. Like an old, well-loved book, my life is bursting—at the seams—with moments that connect heaven and earth, love and loss, dreams and reality.

And perhaps, these shelves will one day hold another book or two written by me—books that remind you that life and light can emerge from the darkest places and that a new life can be born. They are a testament to the chapters of our journey and the enduring promise of the story God is still writing in me. Grace and love are the bindings that hold it all together, even when frayed like the most cherished, well-loved book. These shelves, Jon’s spirit, and this snowy chapter remind me that the story isn’t over. Not yet.

The BIG NEWS!

As I continue to embrace the joy and healing that writing, books and new things—like treasured, reclaimed bookshelves—bring into my life, I’m beyond excited to share a special project that has been part of my journey.

I’ve contributed a chapter on St. Charbel to The Cloud of Witnesses, and the book is now available for Pre-Order—just in time for Christmas!

Most of all, I would deeply appreciate your prayers for this book, that it may give all glory to God.

If you’d like a copy (or two or three—ha!), you can pre-order here at houseofloveandlaughter.com/book or reach out directly for author copies. All books ordered before December 6, (official launch day) will receive custom designed bonuses for those who Pre-order a book(s). The book and bonuses will ship together in time for Christmas.

If you know anyone who might enjoy this book, I would be so honored and grateful if you shared this post with them!

With so much excitement, gratitude, love—and a few tears,
Heather

Let the tears flow—this is a dream come true. My words have finally been published in a book!

Acknowledgements

Thank you, Claire Dwyer, Mike Fontecchio, Write These Words, the PraiseWriter Community, and each of the other talented and wonderful writers who came together to share their stories of the Saints who have touched their lives in The Cloud of Witnesses. Thank you to the entire Cloud of Witnesses—the Church Triumphant—the Saints who intercede for us and inspire us with their example of faith and holiness.

Thank you to my beautiful, patient, loving, faithful children, Sophia, Ian, Olivia, and Isabelle, who are striving to be saints too for bearing with me these last several months as I worked through every letter, word, tear, challenge and triumph of this process. I love you more than any words can ever express. You each teach me in your own, unique and loving way how to be a better person everyday.

And thank you, my Good and Faithful Father, for the faith you have instilled in me and for continuing to walk with me on this journey of sanctification. All Glory to God.

Finally, thank you, Jon, for walking this earth with me for 33 years, for the family we created and raised, and for the bookshelves in the story of life we filled. For our life and love and your many gifts, graces, prayers, friendship, and the desire you instilled in me to walk to the heights, I am forever grateful, you are loved deeply and dearly missed. All my love. Keep praying for me. One day closer.