
No Words Necessary: Losing your head over Halloween


It’s almost Halloween, and that means it’s time for trick-or-treaters and those bite-sized chocolates that I always save for myself, let those dressed-up beggars have all the jolly ranchers and candy corn … ahem, maybe I’ve said too much.
What I mean is: It’s time for tales of mischief and mayhem. Including tales about food!
Like this one: Ever wonder about why we scoop out, cut up, and light pumpkins? Chef Swanky does!
Follow Chef Swanky here and on Instagram at chefswankyhw.

Image/Point North Images
I was going to post a photo of our raised bed garden — correction: our attempt at cultivating a raised bed garden — but the photo has a sad “before” look. By which I mean: We have a lot to do to prep it for next year’s crops. And none of that would be particularly nourishing or inspiring for any of you.
Instead, here’s a photo — with accompanying haiku (because of course) — from when we first started the garden. Enjoy!

p.s. I’ll post lots of photos of our garden after I have some “in progress” ones to go with our “before” photo.

I volunteered to write two devotions for the upcoming Advent booklet for my church.
Here are a few words I received back from the person who’s reviewing them.
I actually didn’t expect a review at all. I thought I’d turn it in, and that would be it. So getting a wonderful critique like this was extra special.
Your conversational tone draws readers right into Paul’s message — not only to understand it, but to feel it. Your reflection on the repetition in Philippians 4 is both fresh and pastoral. The encouragement to take “anything and everything” to God in prayer perfectly captures the heart of this passage — a reminder that joy and peace flow not from our control but from His nearness. The modern illustrations (like the “balcony” image) and the gentle humor make it wonderfully relatable while staying fully faithful to Scripture. It’s exactly the kind of writing that helps people connect deep theology with daily discipleship.
I received this critique on one of those mornings — filled with challenges and irritants and headaches — and it turned into a full-blown pity party (party of one!) that slid into questioning a lot of what I was trying to do.
And then I got this message, and it fed me. Such a great reminder that we are here to hold each other up.
Here’s the devotion. As soon as the book is ready, I’ll post the link.
Say it again and again: Rejoice!
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. 5 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; 6 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippian 4:4-7
The directive is so important, we get it twice:
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.”
Sing it again. Say it louder. Once more for the balcony.
Rejoice!
And no wonder it’s repeated. It needs to sink in.
As one of those balcony-sitters who needs to hear it over and over, I confess that I tend to cherry-pick both my worries and my prayers.
You know what I mean: Fretting over lots of little things because they seem too trivial to take to God. Or limiting my prayers to big stuff: asking for overall help and guidance or giving thanks in a general (or generic?) way.
That’s not what he said, though.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
Those “absolute” words (anything, everything) are what editors typically frown upon and psychologists caution to avoid in relational discussions.
But this is the Lord. We can take Him at His word. No worries: none, zero, nada, zip. Pray about it all: Every.Single.Thing in your heart.
The Lord is at hand. He’s ready for a conversation.
Rejoice!
Second verse same as the first: Rejoice!

The weather is turning cooler (mercifully!), the days are getting shorter, the Halloween decorations are up, and that can mean only one thing: It’s time to watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Again.
Operative word: again. Because we watch it Every.Single.Year. We would no more miss the Great Pumpkin than we’d miss buying Halloween candy in September and then having to buy it again a few weeks later because we sampled too many.
Ahem. Anyway.
It’s always the same:
Lucy is as bossy as ever – and dangerous, as she removes the football, causing Charlie Brown to risk spinal cord injury.
Charlie Brown mistakenly gets invited to a Halloween party and gets rocks when he goes trick-or-treating.
Snoopy gets melodramatic crooning at the piano and doing reinactments of World War I aerial dogfights.
Linus sends a warm invitation to the Great Pumpkin to visit him in the pumpkin patch …

… and then he gets questioned and ridiculed by everyone – including Snoopy.

It’s always the same. Year after year.
We love those crazy kids because they never change. Lucy is always bossy, Charlie Brown is always being picked on, Snoopy is always a daredevil, and Linus … oh, Linus, that lovable kid … he never loses his belief that the Great Pumpkin will show up. Even when the Great Pumpkin doesn’t show, Linus picks himself up, dusts himself off, and looks toward the future. “Next year at this same time, I’ll find a pumpkin patch that is real sincere!”
He knows that when you have faith and hope in your heart — and you live with sincerity — anything can happen. (Even his bossy sister, in a surprising and loving moment, goes out to the pumpkin patch and brings him in from the cold.)
With heartfelt appreciation to the Peanuts gang’s creator, Charles M. Schulz, that message is something we can depend on in a world that changes minute by minute. We know Charlie Brown and his friends will continue to be as hope-filled as they are. We never have to worry about a Charlie Brown reboot or a sequel where they turn surly or apathetic.
And that’s a nourishing thought.
(p.s. The Internet Archive has the video online.)
A picture is worth 1,000 words, they say. Maybe they’re right. Let’s show ’em. Take this photo and make a story.

This is the “Man Going through the Wall” sculpture in Montmartre, Paris, known as Le-Passe-Murialle.
This sculpture is based on a character from the novel “Le Passe-Muraille” by Marcel Ayme.
If you’ve read the book, write another chapter.
If you haven’t read it, come up with a story to explain what this man is doing. Is he running from or running to something? is it easy or hard to get through that wall?