Author’s Note

Home is such a tricky concept. Some people never feel as if they belong in their surroundings while others feel as if they can never leave that special place they’ve made all their own.

Oh, I definitely had my Harmony period growing up. I hated the small Michigan town I grew up in and could not wait to leave it behind for bigger and better things. Only each time I ventured out toward the big city, I found myself running back for the state that had always fit me perfectly, just like a… mitten.

Like Harmony, the real person I was running from was myself. Sometimes it’s easier to look outside and say, “This is the reason I’m not happy. This is the reason I can’t find peace.”

It’s only when we learn to look within, to our hearts, to God, that we can truly find where we’re meant to be.

And despite my adolescent wanderings, I’m proud to say that I’ve settled with my Alaskan husband in my home state of Michigan and just can’t picture myself anywhere else in the world.

Sometimes we run so fast, we don’t realize we’re moving in a circle… but that’s exactly what happened to me, and thankfully I love where I’ve ended up. I love that I’m raising my daughter close enough to my old haunts to take her for a visit. I love that my roots run deep and my home state has become a part of who I am.

Don’t get me wrong, I also love visiting Charleston, Anchorage, and Sweet Grove in the books I write, and I visit so many more in those I read as well. But to me, Michigan will always be home, will always have my heart.

How has your hometown defined the person you’ve become?

Whether you are a product of your upbringing or turned out the exact opposite of how you were raised, take a moment to be grateful for its role in helping you turn into the person you were meant to be.

They call it home sweet home for a reason.

And even when it’s more bitter than sweet, there truly is no place like home.

Prologue

Pastor Adam

Some say that whenever it snows in Charleston, God is giving a miracle to His most favorite of places. I tried to remember that as the cold reaching fingers of the wind poked and prodded my cheeks, nose, and everything else not already covered up by my scratchy winter getup.

But the more I tried to be optimistic about the shocking turn in the weather forecast, the harder that miraculous snow swirled. Soon it had bleached out the entire sky so that it was hard to tell where earth ended and the heavens began. We had a veritable snow storm on our hands just in time for the celebration of His birth.