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As promised, here's what I'm asking for this year: A Nintendo DS Lite. Call me a four year old, but I went into Future Shop with Peter the other day looking for gift ideas for him, and started playing this baby, and I'm hooked. I need it. I love it. I played the New Super Mario Bros. which I thought was so cool and just like the very first one, none of this 3D crap. I'm a Nintendo lover from the start, and got an N64 last year, which I still play all the time.
Also, I found a dress whilst Christmas shopping today which I love, and hope to get. I want a cable knit sweater. I know I'm getting some type of pyjamas for Christmas Eve (our new tradition) so that'll be great. Books and bath stuff are usually a Christmas staple for me, especially for those people who don't know me as well, they're always a great go-to. Peter, lucky for me, has wonderful taste, and I've never had to be one of those women who end up saying, "Oh, honey...you shouldn't have. Really." I knew a woman who got hiking boots for her first anniversary. For me, good idea. Unfortunately, she was an indoors, "my idea of a vacation involves a five star hotel" kinda gal. So yeah, not too worried about my gifts, and honestly, though it's hokey, I really like giving them better than getting them.
For example, nothing on my Christmas list excites me half as much as what I'm getting for Peter this year. I'm nearly busting at the seams. I may borrow a video camera to tape him while he gets it. I can't say what it is, in case he sees it or someone lets it slip, but I promise to post some good Christmas pictures later.
Also, tomorrow morning I'm heading to my mom's house to bake Christmas cookies with her and Robyn all day, before the boys get back and we all decorate the tree. This paints a much more traditional picture than what will actually transpire. I will inevitably screw up whatever batch of cookies my mom leaves in my care, no matter how easy the recipe, or how closely I follow along. I will end up feeling like less of a proper wife and woman because of this, however will be greatly cheered by Robyn being silly all day and much laughing that always goes on whenever Robyn, Mom and I get together. We'll decorate their tree and eat a few of the good cookies (mine will be thrown out or hidden in the back of the freezer) and I'll get to play with Baby Lu. Should be a good day. Saturday, Peter and I are ambitiously hoping to finish our Christmas shopping, and set up our own tree that night.
I love, I love, I love Christmas.
I'm such a heathen. Really I am: they may not let me into Heaven. I am ashamed to admit publicly here, that few things get me into the Christmas spirit like an eggnog chai latte from Starbucks, in the pretty Christmas paper cups. I don't even get the sleeves for the cup, even though the coffee then burns my hands, because I don't want to cover up the cup and ruin the experience, though the sleeves are really pretty this year (they gave me one without asking - stupid baristas with their customer service crap).
It may be an addiction. Last year, Peter's sister and I, -in a solitary Christmas shopping day- bought three. One when we left town for the trip, one for the walk around the mall, one after dinner for dessert. Peter and I are a little financially tight right now, as it's the end of the month, and I've bought at least three already. And one more because the drive-thru lady was slow in making one (again with the service at that place) so I got a coupon for a free one the other day. I've only known the Christmas drinks were out for a week. I have asked about their Christmas decorations in the store, because I want them. Especially the paper tree with the village cutout. Okay, I've likely lost you now. Laughing at me yet? Just wait, it's worse.
Peter and I were thinking of going to see a movie tonight. Instead, we went and looked around Future Shop for Christmas gift ideas, which of course required the aforementioned latte, and while in the Starbucks I again inquired about how I can get my little heathen paws on their decorations without actually committing some kind of crime, and then... I sacrificed our movie, to buy two of these. (Peter and I have a deal that I have to give something like that up if I want something completely frivolous - we borrowed a dvd from Robyn instead of going to the theatre)
It's an illness, I'm telling you. But I'm so excited. Now I can get up and have my morning coffee in one of the pretty cups. I can even look at my paper cup, figure out the cool barista code for the side of the cup, and write it on my new mug with a Sharpie. I can't tell you how this appeals to me. I don't care that in two months, they'll be packed away in a box to wait till next year. The idea of sitting in front of the Christmas tree, with a fire in my fireplace, with my new mug in my hands actually makes my heart flutter a little bit.
So there you have it. My colossal sin. I'm a Christmas consumer. I love the malls, the crowds, the presents (will blog about the wish list later), Santa, his reindeer, the trees, the lights, the music. I don't care if you say happy holidays, merry Christmas, or happy Hanukkah, I will smile at you and feel warm inside while scalding my hands on my expensive latte.
Note To All Good Christians: O Holy Night makes me cry, every single year. I love candlelit Christmas Eve services at church, and I really do think "Jesus is the reason for the season". I love Nativity scenes, and like every good Christian, I will go see the new Nativity Story this year. Promise. I made three shoe boxes for Operation Christmas Child, and wish I could have made thirty. I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, but indulge me: Go to the nearest Starbucks right away. Ask for a grande chai eggnog latte. Get whipped cream and nutmeg on top. Walk out into the cold, looking at your pretty red paper cup and take a sip. I swear to you, it's like Christmas in a cup. If you can't afford it, let me know, and I'll mail you four bucks. After all, it's Christmas.
Due to a crazy storm here, the ferries stopped sailing. We couldn't get to Vancouver, thus, couldn't go to the concert. We got our tickets refunded, our hotel room refunded, and are currently sitting at home. I'm so mad, I just don't even want to talk about it. I want much less, someone to ask me tomorrow, "so, how was the concert?" We didn't go. Blast and Wretch.
If you've never heard of the band "Over The Rhine", before now, welcome. I love this band. I love her voice, I love how haunting and beautiful their music is and the way their lyrics reach out and grab you. The first time I ever listened to them was on an 18 hour train ride in India. It was hot, I felt ill, and so so tired. Peter gave me his discman and told me "hey, listen to this, I think you'd really like it". I was transported.
They're a husband and wife team, they're Christians, but they aren't exactly a Christian band, they're a little more outside the lines than that. They play clubs and churches, and write music that anyone can relate to regardless of what they believe. I don't think I'd call them happy music, not something to listen to when you're driving in the sunshine with the windows open. More of a driving through the rain in the dark after a hard day and needing something to validate what you feel as opposed to trying to cheer you up. It's romantic, it's quiet, it's more instrumental than a lot of stuff.
Anyway, at church on Sunday, we saw in the BC Christian Times laying next to the programs, that they were in Vancouver. On Wednesday. I called my mom and dad and told them that going to this concert would be better than anything they could get us for Christmas, we'd die to be able to go. They're playing in a little college chapel for a crowd of 250 if the tickets sell out we called this morning and they'd only sold 180. My wonderful parents, though firmly believing that a Christmas gift in November is a total crap idea, gave this to us as our early Christmas gift. We catch the ferry to Vancouver tomorrow and are going to spend the night, and come back on Thursday.
I'll post pictures when I get back. Until then, check out the link, listen to some music on the little player there. You can skip around if the current song doesn't catch your ear. My favorite may be "Jesus in New Orleans" and it's a good reflection of what they do. They're mildly controversial, but only to the church, though they're both firm believers. There's a few drinking references in their music, and once a cuss word in one song that I was surprised to hear, which is likely why it was there. I don't think this makes them "not a Christian band", since in the course of the day I've had a drink and likely said something I shouldn't. Their music is honest and heartfelt, and I love that about it. And tomorrow night I get to see them live. Thanks mom and dad. Merry Christmas to you, you're the best.
...so while I'm proof-reading this post, the player on the Over The Rhine site played the song "Latter Days" and it may be my new favorite. Nice stuff. Have a listen.
I feel terrible admitting this, but some days, I just want everyone to see things my way. And not on issues of right and wrong, or any moral dillema, or any life question, but in things like, "tonight let's watch Iron Chef and not football highlights, not a one, not even while Iron Chef is on commercials." There is no excuse for this. I feel selfish lately. I am officially the biggest jerk alive. I am this obnoxious girl with her face in the camera (but isn't she cute?!)
Sidenote: my husband occasionally has to put up with a lot. He deals with this very very well, and did watch Iron Chef, a rerun no less, last night, and did the dishes during commercial breaks. I am lucky. Sometimes, I put up with a lot, but you just aren't going to read about that here. He's amazing, and as stated numerous times before, I am LUCKY. Maybe the luckiest girl alive.
Anyway, I work with all men. I live with only a man. Unless my mom comes into town to take me shopping, or Robyn pops over with Luke (as she is about to do momentarily) I sit alone in my house, hoping for an e mail message from work that gives me a task, which doesn't usually arrive due to a complication that I don't fully understand, but is completely normal, don't worry, check back tomorrow.
So lately, I've been feeling very selfish. You'd think, with all this time to myself, I'd have time to sit with my bible and read and become a better person, but I don't seem to. I just seem to be a bit edgy lately, and little things make me tense. I'm not angry, but I'm, well, crap, I'm a girl.
Anyway, I've decided to try and do some selfless things to balance myself out. Last night, I took my well deserving husband, made him a nice dinner, and after watching Lost (don't EVEN get me started) and then alas, Iron Chef, I told him he was going to have a nice relaxing bath. I made it smell all manly. I gave him a facial treatment and a glass of wine. And funnily enough, I felt better afterward. Getting my way doesn't always make me feel as good as I think it will in the moment. As cliche as it is, doing something nice for someone else, always makes me feel good. Every time.
Peter understands this. Last night I wanted to be taken out on the town, though financially right now, that's a dumb decision for us. Peter offered to make sandwiches for us instead. I got over myself and I made us a good dinner, and he cleaned up, and we had a great evening. Thank goodness I married someone who knows when to give me my way, get out of my way, or get in my way and tell me how silly I'm being.
Christianity right now is big on the word "relevance". What does it mean to be relevant? What does it look like practically, and most important, how is that done without compromise? Now, I believe the Bible to be true, that you can't whitewash it so that it makes people more comfortable. Jesus is not my homeboy, he is still Lord. However, as we learned from Becky's blog we do all approach God in different ways. Just because someone isn't a Christian doesn't mean that a desire for a relationship with Christ isn't built into them, the same way it is in me. The difference is, that I can identify that longing, they cannot.
Now, I've been on a few missions trips in my life. I do not know a missions organization that does not believe in something called an "Open Air". If you know that term, or worse, have participated in this, you are cringing already. If you do not, allow me to enlighten you: An Open Air is an evangelical event staged by young people in the most public place they can find. Usually in front of a subway station in Japan, or a mall in the Philippines. It consists of a "relevant" (there's that word again) dance or drama done to the latest Christian hit song, and is meant to get people staring at you in the hopes that when the jazzy little number is finished, people will stick around, read a tract, and get saved. It has worked in the past. The 70's did really well with them. Now, if someone does hang around and is faced with the Truth for the first time in their life, they have the patented response "Well, that's awesome. Good for you, but that's not truth for me." What is a good little dancing Christian to do? Argue apologetics? Who cares anymore? A few people, but not "all the world". Not our world, the western culture we now live in.
I have been amazed though, to see a few things that did work. People who sat down and really thought and prayed about how to reach the world they lived in. Ideas that translated to all the world.
A locally owned business in Kona, Hawaii, made the best shaved ice (never had one? you're seriously missing a joyous moment in life). As seen by the review here, they are always packed, always have a line out the door and into the street. In the corner of this little establishment, was a box with some papers next to it, and a pen. All the box said was simply "Prayer Requests". The business asked for some kids from the YWAM base nearby to come once a week, empty the box, and pray for the requests inside. I got to be on that team. It was incredible. You wouldn't belive the things people asked for prayer for. "My daughter ran away, I miss her, I can't find her, I know she's doing drugs" or " I just found out I have cancer, I don't know how to tell my family". Some had contact info. We called, and chatted, told them we were praying. What does this say to the world? "You don't believe in God? It's okay for now, I do, and I'll ask my Dad this one for you. Why? Because I care about you. Not just about your eternal salvation, but about your life. The crap you're living through." God bless Scandanavian Shaved Ice.
At UC Berkeley, an annual festival is held. I will get numerous facts wrong here, but the main thing is that Berkeley is a proudly Liberal school. The festival every year hosted little student made booths for fortune tellers, tarot card readers, things of a sexually explicit nature, etc etc. The place turns into something like Sodom and Gamorrah for a few days every year. So the few Christians on campus decided to sit down and see if they could make a booth that would appeal to people, and still spread the gospel in some way that would be relevant to these students. They decided on a confessional booth. They dressed like nuns and monks and went all out. It seemed appropriate for the setting, but there was a twist. They festival arrived, and sure enough, the students see the booth, start laughing, and think it's all a big joke. They go in and start confessing to all these terrible things they've been up to during the festival. The monk, or nun, stops them, and says "no, this booth doesn't work like that. I'm confessing to you." The students are stunned. "Confessing what?" they ask curiously, and likely a little drunk. "Well," they say, "what is it about the church that really, really bugs you?" And out come the stories. Molested by a pastor. Written off as a whore because the skirt she wore to church the only time she dared to go, was much too short. One guy had a really hard time with the Crusades. "What was that all about anyway?" And these young Christians confessed and asked forgiveness for it, on behalf of the church. Regardless of the denomination, or how many years had passed since our transgression, they apologized. They asked them to forgive them on behalf of the church, and they told them why it was wrong. How God really must have felt when that pastor used that girl. Did those kids do the crimes? Nope, not a one. They didn't take part in the Crusades, but they apologized for it. And why not? What did it cost them? Better yet, what did it say? "On behalf of a God you mistrust based on a bad experience, or a misunderstanding, I'm sorry you're hurting. I care about the way the church is seen in the world, and I'll do my part to make it up to you, on behalf of a God that I know loves you very much." The students reported amazing things from that confessional. People were healed of old wounds and hurts, they came to Christ, they repented back for doing things to hurt Christianity in general and specifically, they asked questions, they wept, they met God. God bless UC Berkeley.
And today, I found this on Claudia's blog. Some guy is going around giving out free hugs. He just wanted to brighten people's day. No questions asked. So I looked around YouTube, found his story. What a guy. People are literally taking this into all the world. They're giving out free hugs all over the place. Strangers standing around with a sign. And if you watch the clip, people aren't just giving awkward hugs. They're embracing. They're holding each other. They're loving each other as best they know how, in a hard world, where sometimes we all just need a shoulder, a moment when someone embraces us and makes us feel, for just a second, like it's all going to be okay. We're not alone. The clip that really got to me, is that someone took it to Israel. They're giving out hugs in the most war torn spot on the planet, a place that has been in turmoil from within, and assaulted from without more times than any other place in history, throughout all of history. Good for them. I want a hug. God bless Juan Mann.
Some girls I went to YWAM with, instead of doing the normal (if you can call it that) Open Air decided to try something new. They baked cookies all day one day, and then hit the streets of Suva, Fiji the next. They made a sign, "Free Cookies and Prayer". You could walk up, have a cookie and leave. Or, if you needed someone to believe when you couldn't or didn't, you could have someone else approach the God of all creation, and ask for you. No worries. God bless April and Kelsey.
Thanks to Claudia, who made me remember this today with her blog. You really can go into all the world and spread the gospel. You can use words, or you can give someone a hug. You can show them that though the nature and character of God doesn't change, we can emphasize the parts of it that are relevant to the audience we're speaking to. God is the most humble being in the universe, he loves repentance and reconcilliation, he asks us to stand in the gap for others, and believe for them, he asks us to bless others and not expect anything back.
Someone I knew once had spent all this time building a friendship with an unsaved person overseas, in the hopes that his friendship would "open a door". Good call. But the friend asked him one day "If you knew that I would never get saved, would you still be my friend? Would you still care about me?" I hope I would. Because getting them saved isn't my job. God does not command us to lead people to Christ. He commands us to love them.
