Birthdays, Books, and God in the Details

This week will be full of birthdays at our house—one kiddo turned 20 on Monday, another, my oldest, will turn 25 this weekend. So many milestones.

After a long, joy-filled day of celebrating our 20-year-old, and prepping for all upcoming birthday and Christmas gift exchanging, I came home to boxes waiting by the garage.

That shipment was a little behind, I was not upset I was elated when I saw them piled among the snow. The contents of the shipment were initially set to ship on December 8—the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and also my mom’s birthday, the very date I wrote about in my chapter. With unexpected delays and weather, the shipping date potentially shifted to another Marian feast, Our Lady of Guadalupe. Someday I’ll share more about her presence in my life, but for now, I simply noticed the quiet pattern forming again.

Then there was a stretch of silence. I hadn’t heard whether the books had shipped or not, and I found myself postponing plans for a small book launch and shop gathering I had hoped to host the previous weekend.

At the same time, my kids and I were grateful for the pause as winter break began. After a very full season of houseguests and a beautiful Thanksgiving, we welcomed the chance to hunker down together rather than ramp up to prepare for another event. Spending a holiday like we did over Thanksgiving in our home—our first since before loss and the diagnosis—felt quietly healing, stitching us back together bit by bit.

So I waited. I prayed for clarity—about timing, about dates, about how best to show up for local supporters and friends who had been asking about buying a copy of the book and a Christmas shop event. I trusted the moment would reveal itself.

And then, at last, the boxes arrived on Monday. Another milestone, another chapter published in a book, another “birth.”

Inside them were my copies of Crowned With Grace—a beautiful collection of 30 stories, each reflecting on a different title of the Blessed Mother, written by talented writers. I had the honor of contributing a chapter about Mary and the Immaculate Conception, woven together with my mom’s birthday, which falls on that feast day. The way God weaves the details of our lives never ceases to amaze me.

Opening those boxes felt a little like it was my birthday too. I was grateful to celebrate my daughter—and the arrival of this book—with cake that even included sparklers.

Small sparks of joy and celebration mean everything lately.

This time last year, I was marking a first—being published in a collaborative book, Cloud of Witnesses centered on a saint who walked closely with us through the journey of brain cancer. That story was written from the foot of the Cross, shaped by grief, hope, and the slow work of learning how to keep living after great loss. To be included in another collaborative book just one year later makes the timing feel especially meaningful. I’m deeply honored to be trusted with sharing a reflection on Mary—her nearness in suffering, her quiet strength, and the way she has accompanied my faith and my motherhood through seasons of sorrow and healing.

If you know me, you know how much I love birthdays—and cake. I love celebrating people, gathering around a table, marking time with sweetness and gratitude. It feels fitting, then, that my journey of sharing words publicly began on a birthday as well. So the arrival of the books on a birthday felt especially sweet and serendipitous—one of those small packages wrapped up and tied neatly with a bow that I often find God sending my way. Maybe it’s confidence. Maybe it’s because I pay attention to the details. Or maybe it’s because He is a very personal God who knows I need this kind of tenderness right now.

I wrote Writing Is My Cake for my dad on his first heavenly birthday in 2019. That post marked the beginning of this blog and my decision to share words beyond the walls of my home. It was an offering made in grief and love—a way to honor him, to celebrate life, and to say yes without knowing where that yes might lead. I have written about birthdays and cake many times since. It only felt fitting that sharing about my mom’s birthday would become another chapter on this writing path. I have shared about my dad’s, and my husband, Jon’s. It has been instrumental in the conversion of my heart—and perhaps a reminder that God is present in the details of our stories long before we can make sense of them.

Sharing personal stories has never been effortless. Often I doubt my words—and sometimes even my worth. It can feel tender and vulnerable to place pieces of one’s heart into the world. And yet, I continue to obey the quiet prompting of the Spirit to share. I’ve come to believe that when we give our gifts to others, they become a gift back to God—and often, a gift to ourselves. What begins as something deeply personal can be transformed into service.

I don’t know what details God may be weaving into your days right now, but I hope you’re given the grace to notice them when they appear. Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.” —Luke 2:19

The Gospel reflection I heard today included this invitation: “Go and work in the vineyard today.” It lingered with me as a question—where am I being asked to show up, to tend what has been entrusted to me? Maybe it’s in writing and sharing words.

For me, that continues to look like sharing stories—about faith, motherhood, loss, grief, hope, finding joy, and the grace woven through ordinary days. I pray these words might encourage someone, or at the very least—and perhaps at the very best—give glory to God.

Crowned With Grace is now in my hands, and it is a gift to see my name on a chapter about my mom’s birthday, the Blessed Mother, and the slow healing of my heart. I’m deeply grateful to be part of a book that honors Mary and points us toward her Son. I am honored to be among many authors who have different stories, but a shared love and devotion to the Blessed Mother. It feels fitting that these books arrived in December—the month we honor Mary most tenderly as we prepare to celebrate the birth of her Son, our Savior. It feels fitting for me too, since December was the birth of many things in my life—marriage, two children, my mom and now these books.

Thank you to those who continue to support my words and my work. Thank you to those who have already purchased this book—and the one that was released this time last year. Your encouragement is what helps writers continue to write.

And because words eventually want to be shared around a table, once the books arrived, we decided to throw together a small Book Launch Celebration and Pop-Up Shop this weekend.

If you’re local, I would love to welcome you to House of Love and Laughter this weekend for a shop gathering, another celebration of the birth of this new book, and a chance to linger and make room at the table. Let me know, and I’ll happily send along the details.

I don’t know what details God may be weaving into your days right now, but I hope you’re given the grace to notice them when they appear.

Heather lebano

On another note: don’t forget to click into the underlined notes above, they often are references back to posts or instagram or substack reflections that fit the theme of whatever I have mentioned on that particular topic. That said, this is not related, but worth your time to check out the snow adventurer.