Christ is Here! Finally!

Outside the snow has added a fresh layer to the corners of the window. My tea warms my hands as I curl up on the couch, listening to my favorite Christmas album. My family's Christmas tree sits before me, miraculously holding up the pounds of ornaments that adorn its branches.

It's Christmastime in the Midwest and I am beside myself with joy and contentment. There's something about coming home, holding family tight and celebrating the birth of our savior.

Into my adulthood, I've realized that while digging into Christ's story and His character, I learn so much. It seems that each Christmas season there's one new thing God is teaching me throughout my favorite time of year.

Last year was my first Christmas season away from family and away from the Midwest. Moving to California changed how I had to see Christmas. It didn't need to be about the snow, the traditions I had made years before but now couldn't be a part of, or even being with family. God stripped away those things last year to make room for Him, to clear away the clutter so that I could focus on what Christmas really is all about - Christ.

This year God has me focused on a different aspect of the Christmas Story: the fulfillment of the prophecy.
It's been incredible as I've been doing my devotionals to look at the Christmas story and go to the corresponding Old Testament references to that part of the story. For instance, Hosea 11:1 predicted that Joseph would take Mary and Joseph out of the country to Egypt after His birth (at this point, now 3 or so years after) because of Herod.
That is just one example out of many. There are countless other Old Testament verses that indicate certain things in Jesus' birth story.

After reading all the Old Testament references, I couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like to live before His birth, anticipating this day, and the joy that fell upon them learning of His birth.

For so long, the scriptures, their heritage, their teachings said that one day a savior would come. That he'd be born of a virgin in Bethlehem, and that Shepherds and Kings would come to worship Him. And that later they'd flee the country fearing for their lives, then return...and that He would be the Son of God and called Lord. They knew it was coming. They anticipated that day, I'm sure.

Then it happened. Exactly as the scriptures indicated, God gave his Son to this earth. He who would become our savior. And they worshiped him, for they were filled with unspeakable joy that, in fact, God hadn't abandoned him. For, you see, Immanuel was prophesied by Isaiah to come - that name means "God with us." All of those years, waiting, hoping, praying for His coming, and they finally had Him. It was, in fact, the greatest gift, for he represented Hope. Hope for a future filled with peace, joy, love.

And those who came to see him fell upon their knees in awe, in joy, in gladness, in thankfulness, in worship to Christ, their Lord. I would imagine tears streamed upon their faces as they sang praises to God. The heavenly hosts sang "Glory to God in the Highest! And on earth, Peace among men with whom He is pleased."

Tonight, as I stood next to my family and hundreds of other families at the Christmas eve service, singing hymns praising his birth, I began to cry. (I usually don't admit this, but in the past couple years, I've become way more of a crier than ever before.) I began to cry, imagining bowing down before my Lord, in awe and wonder that He is with us, just as was prophesied hundreds of years before He was born. And just as was prophesied, we were given Immanuel - for the gift of Christ was given.

          "O, Come let us adore him! Christ, The Lord!"

"Shepherds, why this jubilee?

Why your joyous strains prolong?

What the gladsome tidings be

Which inspire your heavenly song?

GLORIA, IN EXCELSIS DEO (glory to God in the highest)!"

"Fall on your knees - Oh hear, the angel's voices! Oh, night when Christ was born!"

These songs carry such weight and emotion in them - can't you hear it in the words and the melody? What joy must have been that night! Everything they'd hoped and prayed for was in front of them, there, in the flesh.

And that couldn't embody the truest meaning of Christmas more: God giving His son to us, our savior, our Lord and King.

I hope you take some time to consider the Old Testament prophecies and how they bring so much depth to the Christmas story this season. But mostly, I hope you celebrate the birth of our savior, and what joy comes with accepting his grace and love.
Merry Christmas to you, from snowy South Dakota!

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It's Christmastime in The Cottage!

One of my favorite traditions during Christmas-time is all the Christmas decorating. Who doesn't love staring at lights, tinsel, garland, and, now that I live in Southern California, *fake snow?

A couple nights ago, my roommate and I went to go get our Christmas Tree, which we later affectionately dubbed "Alfalfa," for he has a funny cowlick of a branch in the back. He smells like a great Christmas tree and oftentimes I will walk up to the tree just to close my eyes and take a whiff of the pine.

Though the majority of our Christmas tree is filled with round shiny ornaments, there are several that have cute meanings behind them - Kim and her love affair with owls, plus a Hello Kitty arrangement that she bought upon her engagement with Wes...me and a few I handmade recently.

In addition to the obligatory wrapping-selves in lights and sipping hot cocoa while dancing around to Jingle Bell Rock, we also decked our halls in garland, poinsettias, tinsel, stockings, and more lights.

There is something so calming and soothing about just sitting and staring at the lights in silence late in the night. The peace that fills my soul as I sit and sip on a cup of tea, getting lost in a daze of memories and dreams.

Christmas time is my favorite time of the year. And though I still have no (real) snow, I am truly enjoying the advent of our Lord Jesus Christ and celebrating the season with friends that are family.

Soon this house will be busting with people, eating and chatting and having a grand time. Now its time to get baking and prepping!

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november

In Ten Words:searching . preparing . tea . writing . friendships . hopeful . wandering . pumpkin . longing . caribou mug (I concede the last one is 2 words.)

Perfect Day:Sunday. No matter how tired, frustrated, stressed, worried, and anxious I am about everything, from the time I enter into worship in the morning, take the afternoon to wander and be quiet, and then spend the evening with the youth group, it's a day full of spiritual refreshment. I wish all days could be Sundays.

Inspiration:a book of poems I picked up at a garage sale a while back.
Dee Henderson & Susan May Warren.
the dream of cozying up next to the fireplace writing for hours on end.

Unwind:Sipping a cup of tea while reading, writing, or watching Friends as my roommate sews a dress.

Can't live without:My walks. I love getting to take short breaks throughout the day and taking some time to spend with God, discussing my future, my heart, my frustrations, my fears, my dreams...

Favorite Indulgence:Chocolate. I guess nothing changes.
That, and bedtime tea in my Caribou mug or my "H" mug.

Currently Most Played on iPod:
Moon River - Andy Williams
River - Sarah McLachlan
After You - Breanne Duren
Helicopter - Branches
Home - The Piano Guys

Proudest Moment:NaNoWriMo 2013!
If by some miracle I finish, I'll have 50,000 words by November 30th.

Biggest Challenge:Making time for writing and chores and cooking every night.

Memory:The day the Vikings won. Victory never tasted so sweet.

You can find me:When not at work, either curled up on the couch with a mug of tea writing or at Element or a bookstore writing.

3 goals:
Write
Write some more
Write 50,000 words by November 30th

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contentment

I usually think of birds symbolizing adventure, soaring on the wind, taking the breeze wherever it leads them. Watching them fly on the streams of air, I often forget that they just sit, too. I recently saw several birds sitting on phone wires and singing to each other. And I couldn't help but wonder about their seemingly content nature, just resting and enjoying the place they're at.

Part of me longs for adventure, always wanting to fly away. But many times, I often forget that I need to sit. To stay. To stay and be content to stay.

It's always greener on the other side of the fence, and it's always easier to want adventure when you're sitting and to want to sit when you're on an adventure. But contentment is something to be learned. And I am learning just that.

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far from the madding crowd

somewhere south of bemidji, mn

it seems to me i'd like to go
where bells ne'er ring or whistles blow;
where clocks ne'er strike and gongs ne'er sound,
but where there's stillness all around.

not real still stillness - just the trees'
low whisperings or the croon of bees;
the drowsy tinkling of the rill,
or twilight song of whippoorwill.

'twould be a joy could i behold
the dappled fields of green and gold,
or in the cool, sweet clover lie
and watch the cloud-ships drifting by.

i'd like to fid some quaint old boat,
and find its oars, and with it float
along the lazy, limpid stream
where water-liles drowse and dream.

sometimes it seems to me i must 
just quit the city's din and dust,
for fields of green and skies of blue
and, say! how does it seem to you?


-Nixon Waterman.


This poem has been speaking to me. and seems to fit my novel I'm working on. I picked up a book called "best loved poems" at a garage sale some month-or-so ago. It's an old worn-down book with yellowing pages that are tattered at their corners and smell like history. I've found it to be enthralling, enchanting, yet relaxing and soothing. I may not be a poet, but I do love the written word when it ebbs and flows so beautifully.

I hope you find the solace and quiet from the noise of the city streets. 

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Adventuring with Ashley

My apologies for missing last week!
I had a splendid time adventuring and catching up with my friend Ashley, also affectionately known as "Carlizzle." Ashley and I have known each other since high school when we were put in the same cabin at camp. And then we eventually both ended up working at said camp. And, so they say, the rest is history.

Well, to make a long story short, she ended up dating someone from just down the road, who happens to know, like, ALL of my friends. Ok, not all. But really, a lot of them. So longer story short, she came out to visit me. Ok, and him. Ok, really more him, but also me.

When I finally got to steal my favorite Cheesehead away, we adventured down the PCH past Sycamore Cove by one of the random ocean access points. I made her trek across rocks to the tide pools, curiously poking at sea anenenenemoes and starfish as we wondered at God's creative mind. I always love adventuring along the PCH. It never gets old, really. The vastness of the ocean, the colors, even on a grey day, the uniqueness of oceanic creatures...they enthrall me.
After our tide pool adventures, I made her walk all the way up the sandhill for the sunset, where we proceeded to have much-needed girl talk and God talk. What a blessing it was for me and hopefully as much for her!

I also was on the receiving end of many awkward hugs, and introduced several others to the experience I now relish. Like This.

Last week went by way too fast to not try to grasp every moment. It was a week I will never forget. And I shall miss my Carlizzle, her laughter, her hugs, her presence...but mostly, her love. Thank goodness for these handy new-fangled things called iPhones.

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A Birthday to Die For

(Lunchtime Fiction.)

He chewed on his sunflower seeds, spitting the shells into the cup. His fisted hand clamped the steering wheel so tight as he sat watching the children play. It didn't need to happen this way, but they made it happen. His child died, after all, so why shouldn't they also know the burning pain that seers through your heart every moment of every day. His son would never get to play football with his buddies, go fishing with his family, flirt with girls in his teenage years. If his son would never experience life, theirs shouldn't either. Their child was the reason it all happened, anyway.

Mr. Danton grabbed the dinosaur piñata out of the back seat and walked up to the yard.

"Hi, Uncle Tim!" squealed the birthday boy, who'd obviously had several doses too many of sugar.
Little Jake gave him a hug and he returned with a smile and a "Happy Birthday!"
"Is that my piñata?!"
"Don't touch it - I'll hang it over the tree branch."

Was he going to miss the hugs from this sweet little boy? Sure. But he missed his sons hugs more.

"Thanks, Tim," said his brother, Brody. "Let me help you tie it - "
"No, I got it. You take care of those burgers on the grill."

His anger was in a fist of rage clamped around his heart as he hung the dinosaur to the tree.
It shouldn't hurt anyone else. He'd make sure it'd be the birthday boy who swung the bat first.

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