Christmas Comes to Chapel Journal: An Enchanting Winter Story, Illustrated by Emily Mayne
““‘And they shall call His name Immanuel,’ which is translated, ‘God with us.’” -Matthew 1:23
“ A collection of candles sits in her windows, like angels lighting the path home.”
High up in the Swiss Alps, winter comes quietly, and all at once. The heart thrills as one awakens to an all-white world. Spring’s flower fields are blanketed in snow, and glittering blue lakes, now frozen, inspire dreams of ice skating. People rise early to watch God paint a sunrise. As the sun creeps behind the horizon, the sky takes on color—timid at first, then lustrous with pink and golden colors. A lark lets cry the clear, brilliant notes of the day’s first song. All of creation seems to respond in awe and wonder to the God who touches the sky and makes the day glow—who touches the heart and gives it new life.
What a masterful day God is making. The heavens declare His glory; light touches everything, and heaven’s reflection is seen even in the snow. A winter morning like this inspires prayers and praise.
It is this snowy scene in which I imagine the little pink chapel, sweetly tucked in. Snow covers her roof and dusts her steeple. Her pink walls lend the scene its only color—everything else is white. A collection of candles sits in her windows, like angels lighting the path home. What comfort, what grace.
Imagine a weary traveler, freezing and losing hope. His vision is clouded with endless white, and his way is monotonous, seemingly relentless at times, with no thrilling challenge. Only much later does he look up and see the miracle: the little pink chapel, offering refuge and welcome. Stunned, he doesn’t know whether to trust his eyes. But there she is: first her steeple, then her stained glass windows, and at last, the whole blessed sight: the little pink chapel, a sanctuary from the cold.
I always imagined the pink chapel of Chapel Journal nestled high up in the Swiss Alps, graceful every season (read here and here for more inspiration behind the vision). But for winter and especially for Christmas, I knew Chapel needed an extra touch of grace. As always, I turned to artist Emily Mayne to interpret my vision (read about our collaborations here and here). And how beautifully she dressed Chapel up for this Christmas!
One of my favorite ways to create inspiration is to make a list of enchanting things—things perhaps only my heart understands. These lists can be as poetic and abstract as I like. Inspiration comes from anywhere—illustrated storybooks, lifelong dreams, beautiful images.
“One of my favorite ways to create inspiration is to make a list of enchanting things.”
My Christmas inspiration for Chapel looked a little something like this:
Candlelight Christmas services
Ice skaters gliding across outdoor ponds, like music box ballerinas
Springerle cookies embossed with winter and Nativity scenes
The sense of awe and wonder that fills the heart when contemplating Advent, Christ’s arrival
Scandinavian wreaths
Tables dressed with evergreen and candles
Lavishly illustrated Christmas storybooks
Candles flickering in a dark room or quiet sanctuary
Horse carriages traveling across scenes of frozen wonder
Devotions on winter mornings, read by the fireplace
Fairytale villages and chalets, like those in St. Moritz, Chamonix, Courchevel, Appenzell.
The beauty of Christmas hymns, how effortless it becomes to fill our days with expressions of worship, praise, and adoration
Hand-painted flowers on the doors and windows of Swiss chalets
The ambiance and glamour of a ski holiday
White horses prancing through the snow
Fur-trimmed mittens and extravagant winter coats
A cup of hot chocolate and a warm cookie at the base of the ski slopes
Packages wrapped with pastel ribbon
The Scriptures detailing Christ’s birth, and the consoling messages within them, words for every child of God to claim: “Do not be afraid… you have found favor with God” (Luke 1:30); “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).
Dried flowers painted soft, gentle, pastel colors
Dog sledding and St. Bernard puppies barreling through the snow
Miniature ponies catching snowflakes on clumsy hooves
The Pinterest board I sent to Emily reflects this inspiration, these scenes that seem to take place somewhere between fantasy and reality. (You can have a glimpse into our creative process by viewing that board here!) While drawing inspiration for our Christmas illustrations, I was captivated by videos of figure skaters in the Swiss Alps, gliding across the most surreal outdoor ponds. I could hardly imagine a more beautiful confluence of earthly grace and heavenly beauty. In this wondrous setting, with the mountains as their backdrop and the heavens above, the skaters seemed to glide through the very clouds. Most know my background as a figure skater—the art form that so profoundly shaped who I am—and so it only made sense to draw from the artistry and inspiration I found in this beautiful sport.
From our Pinterest Board: Ethereal images of winter in the Swiss Alps, including ice skaters in the most majestic outdoor setting, and snowy chapels that offer refuge from the cold. Pink skies of unimaginable grandeur illumine both scenes. Images saved from @switzerland.vacations on Instagram.
“I’ve read that love is so vast, it can only be contained in the smallest of acts. And I think these cookies look like the very picture of love.”
Emily also charmingly illustrated my favorite Christmas cookie, the Springerle. I’ve read that love is so vast, it can only be contained in the smallest of acts. And I think these cookies look like the very picture of love. I first discovered springerle cookies on a wedding blog and was instantly enamored. I’d never seen something so small so completely capture the essence of Christmas. These little cookies are exquisite and homey. And isn’t this just the flavor of Christmastime? It’s the season of miracles and of mundane joys– the season that fills us with awestruck wonder, and simple longings for home.
Springerle are native to Germany, and popular in Switzerland, Bavaria, Alsace, and Bohemia, and date as far back as the 14th c. A white, anise-flavored cookie stamped with pictures, springerle was possibly developed in monasteries, alongside Church host, another type of “Bildergebäck” (baked goods with pictures). Originally, the cookies were printed with ornate religious and especially Christmas motifs and given as educational tools for those who couldn’t read or write. Later, as they were adopted as beautiful gifts for weddings, baptisms, and betrothals, springerle expanded to include scenes appropriate for each of these occasions. They continue, however, to be most powerfully associated with Christmastime—in several countries, springerle were exchanged much in the way that we exchange Christmas cards. I am drawn to their intricate patterns, ornate beauty, and rich history. Giving a springerle cookie with a Christmas scene, what a sweet expression of grace. God can move our hearts and speak to us through the littlest things—even a cookie, especially if it is given prayerfully, and is as lovingly fashioned as this.
Beautiful springerle cookies from our Pinterest board.
Emily painted other images that continue to captivate my imagination—a collection of candles, a snow-covered church, and a beloved Scripture, adorned with winter botanicals. Matthew 1:23, the Scripture chosen for Chapel’s Christmas, is a source of unending comfort. What could more profoundly reassure the believing heart than the promise of Immanuel, God with us? God with us in our brokenness. With us in our joy. With us in our everyday work. With us to capture every tear in His bottle, and with us to equip us for the work He has called us to (Psalm 56:8; Hebrews 13:20-21; Ephesians 2:10). Promising never to leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).
Nothing can compare to the miracle of Christ’s abiding presence with His children. Nothing can compare to the miracle of His atoning death, His saving grace, His blessed assurance, His never-ending love, and the new birth in Christ that brings the kingdom of heaven to the believing heart.
God’s presence with us—His promise that, on receiving Christ, nothing will separate us from His love (Romans 8:38-39)—this is most beautiful blessing of all.
Advent and Christmas open my heart to experience anew the wonder of all that God has accomplished for us by sending His Son, Jesus. The arrival of Christ into our hopeless condition—it is more than my heart can hold; I could search it out for all eternity, and still be awed. His rescue, His offer of salvation, His arrival into the hearts that will receive Him—it is the truth worth living and dying for. Contemplating the richness of God’s mercy upon us, the heart cannot help but overflow with expressions of praise. Christ, our all in all, is here. If we receive Him, He is with us, even now. All of us will always be undeserving; there is nothing within us that merits grace. Thank God that He has arranged it this way; Thank God that salvation is a triumph of His grace, and not the recompense for our works, which would never be enough (Ephesians 2:8-9). Thank God for Immanuel, God with us. Perhaps, dear child of God, if you silence yourself before Him and draw near, you can sense His presence, even now. I pray that you do.
May God find in our hearts a chapel, sweet and pure, devoted to Christ’s praise and overflowing with His very life. May Christ dwell richly there (Ephesians 3:17) and may He bless you with His indescribable peace, abiding hope, and unending love, this Christmas, and always.
