Jenny Knipfer Author

Jenny shares her books, inspiration, and thoughts on life and writing.

In a world where we can use our imaginations for so many things and in so many ways, let’s choose to use it to help create a better world. That’s why I write.

The song, Joy to the World, one of my favorite Christmas hymns, commands that “every heart prepare Him room.” This hymn talks about singing with joy, experiencing joy, and making room in our hearts for the One who will give us true joy. The simple notion that we must prepare a place made me think and ask: “How do I prepare Him room?”

I see hope—sandwiched in the middle of faith and love—like an elusive mist, there one moment and gone the next. You can’t see it, but you sense it, like the evidence of the wind on the waves.

Today I give you a glimpse into my personal and professional journey with gaining patience. Patience is a virtue, slippery though it may be.

In my effort to post about what I am thankful for each day this month, I continue the journey on my blog today. It has been rewarding, eye-opening, and a blessing to focus every morning on giving thanks. In my imagination, I feel as if I am building a thankful shelter where I can run to when a rough day comes. I can remind myself, “See what you have to be thankful for” when I am tempted to complain.

This month I wanted to focus on being thankful instead of grumbling and complaining about my uphill author battles, so I challenged myself to post about something I’m grateful for on Facebook and Instagram each day. I wake up eager each morning to share my thankful posts. Counting your blessings really does change your attitude.

Basically, thankfulness boils down to a choice, a decision to count your blessings instead of the pain. When you make a conscious effort to be grateful, sometimes even the pain becomes a blessing.

Have you ever seen a person spin plates? I have. It is certainly a feat. One that I don’t think I could achieve. Yet inwardly, I do just that. In this new season of being an independent author, I find myself wondering how to balance life with the various hats that I wear. I imagine the hats like plates spinning on a pole. I am afraid that one or more will crash, or I will.

I give you my brief thoughts on being read to, the heritage I had, and what I passed on to my children.

When I stitch the pieces of my memory of my grandma back together, I craft a bright and sparkly quilt with strong seams.
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