This year has been different. I love Christmas, just as I always have. I love Santa and presents and decorations and cookies. I love Christmas music, Christmas trees, and the winter outfits we get to wear around Christmas. But none of that seems to matter as much this year.
So much has happened, and in the wake of all of that I've been evaluating my life and the things I've learned. And this year Christmas means more. Jesus means more.
It really is beautiful - the story of Jesus. How He was promised so long ago, when man first fell. How He is seen so clearly throughout history even before he came. How His faithful servants longed for Him, waited for Him, and predicted Him.
And then - finally - He came. So unexpectedly. Not the King they'd all been waiting for. But a baby. In a single night the entire world was changed. In that baby, hope was born. He hadn't come to rule yet; He came to give hope. To seek and save the lost.
And then He died. He died the most torturous death - having done nothing wrong - to pay for the sin of mankind. With His last breath He cried out in victory, "It is finished!" He had conquered sin. He bridged the gap between His father and fallen mankind.
But unlike any other story, this one did not end in death; for when He defeated sin He defeated its consequence. He rose again giving hope of life for those who believe in the truth of this beautiful story. For those who recognize their loss and His win.
His story does not even end there, amazingly. For one day He will be the King we've been waiting for. He will rule in righteousness. And into eternity, when the last battle has been won, we will celebrate Him. We will celebrate His beautiful story, and His grace in allowing us to be a part of it.
These are the things on which I have been thinking this Christmas. I am mesmerized by it and the realization that this is what matters. Everything I'm going through right now is ok because this is what matters. And I love that.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
It's the Little Things
I went to the thrift store today. I'm not typically a thrift store shopper, but I've frequented them more since I've discovered Pinterest. I now love the thought of purchasing (at a low cost) something old and used and making it my own. My purpose in this particular visit was to search for items for the apartment I'm looking to rent in the near future.
I wasn't looking for anything specific; just something small I could re-purpose as a weekend project, then use in my apartment. I found a few small lamps I was going to paint and put in the living room, then wandered to the furniture section, just in case. And this is where the magic happened. I found the most perfect coffee table. I wasn't looking for a coffee table. I've never felt the need for a coffee table. But now... I need a coffee table. I'm not sure if it's the fact that it's a coffee table, or even that it's perfect, as much as the fact that it will be mine. In my apartment. I need this coffee table, and I need the independence and adult-ness that come with it.
When I decided to express my need for this coffee table to the man to whom I'd given the honor of carrying it to my car, he informed that I'd be wiser to wait until tomorrow to make my purchase, because tomorrow everything in the store will be 50% off. I'll get my coffee table for $12.50.
Twelve dollars and fifty cents for my first step into adulthood. I couldn't pass it up. I left the store empty handed. And it's been gnawing at me ever since. I mean, what if I get there tomorrow morning and it's gone? What if someone else bought my independence?
There's something to be said for patience. I don't have it. I would love to think that if the coffee table and I are meant to be, it will be there in the morning. But I just can't convince myself. And I'm not good at waiting to find out.
I'm not good at waiting in general. I've been looking forward to this apartment for a long time. It's such an exciting time, but I've felt as though I'm stuck waiting for the excitement to happen. I've been consumed with planning for it - financially, mentally, materially, etc.
When making life changes as I've been trying to make lately, it is easy to get caught up in the "looking forward." But I've found that this waiting process is a learning experience in itself. This is a time in my life that I'll never have again, and I shouldn't want to rush out of it.
I'm learning to appreciate the here and now, though it's not always easy. It's the little things - like getting up at 7:15 on a Saturday morning with my mom to head to Good Will in hopes to spend $12.50 on a coffee table - of which I'm learning not to take advantage.
I'm thankful for the things to come. And now, I can honestly say I'm thankful for the meantime.
I wasn't looking for anything specific; just something small I could re-purpose as a weekend project, then use in my apartment. I found a few small lamps I was going to paint and put in the living room, then wandered to the furniture section, just in case. And this is where the magic happened. I found the most perfect coffee table. I wasn't looking for a coffee table. I've never felt the need for a coffee table. But now... I need a coffee table. I'm not sure if it's the fact that it's a coffee table, or even that it's perfect, as much as the fact that it will be mine. In my apartment. I need this coffee table, and I need the independence and adult-ness that come with it.
When I decided to express my need for this coffee table to the man to whom I'd given the honor of carrying it to my car, he informed that I'd be wiser to wait until tomorrow to make my purchase, because tomorrow everything in the store will be 50% off. I'll get my coffee table for $12.50.
Twelve dollars and fifty cents for my first step into adulthood. I couldn't pass it up. I left the store empty handed. And it's been gnawing at me ever since. I mean, what if I get there tomorrow morning and it's gone? What if someone else bought my independence?
There's something to be said for patience. I don't have it. I would love to think that if the coffee table and I are meant to be, it will be there in the morning. But I just can't convince myself. And I'm not good at waiting to find out.
I'm not good at waiting in general. I've been looking forward to this apartment for a long time. It's such an exciting time, but I've felt as though I'm stuck waiting for the excitement to happen. I've been consumed with planning for it - financially, mentally, materially, etc.
When making life changes as I've been trying to make lately, it is easy to get caught up in the "looking forward." But I've found that this waiting process is a learning experience in itself. This is a time in my life that I'll never have again, and I shouldn't want to rush out of it.
I'm learning to appreciate the here and now, though it's not always easy. It's the little things - like getting up at 7:15 on a Saturday morning with my mom to head to Good Will in hopes to spend $12.50 on a coffee table - of which I'm learning not to take advantage.
I'm thankful for the things to come. And now, I can honestly say I'm thankful for the meantime.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sweatpants
I was feeling ambitious yesterday. I was ready to move forward. I was ready to take charge of my life. I was ready for change. Today I've realized that nothing has changed yet. I don't know why I thought I would wake up and everything would be different; I haven't done anything to make it different. It's been one day - what could be different already?
I feel changes in myself and I want them to be tangible already. But I guess it doesn't really work that way. I'm going to have to take baby steps. Which brings me to sweatpants. I love sweatpants. Who doesn't, right? They are so comfortable and warm, and they expand with your body when you overeat. They are perfect. Well, they are kind of perfect. You see, I have this... complex, I guess, that prevents me from being able to wear sweatpants in any other vicinity than the comfort of my own home. I work in an environment in which comfortable clothing is the preferred attire by most of the employees; sweatpants are perfectly acceptable work wear if you ask any of my coworkers. But I can't get over it - if it's not pajama day, I'm not wearing sweatpants (...did I mention I work at a daycare?).
I actually made an attempt to wear sweatpants in public last Friday night. I went to the mall, Wal-Mart, and a movie with a friend. We had decided that this was going to be a relaxing time and we should be comfortable, so I agreed that it would be OK to wear sweatpants in public, just this once. It was not OK. The whole time I felt like people were looking at me and planning to nominate me for What Not to Wear. I felt the need to explain to every one of them - total strangers - the reason I was wearing such an outfit. I felt like I should have been heading to bed, not out in public.
I don't know why I'm like this. No one sat me down as a child to explain to me that one should never wear lounge-wear in front of one's peers. Actually, I think most of my friends and family have quite the opposite perspective and wouldn't even notice if I wore sweatpants to the mall.
Obviously, this isn't just about sweatpants. It's about getting over my need to control what people think of me. I love to look nice. I always will. I love to wear cute clothes and fix my hair and wear make up. And there's nothing wrong with that. But there is something wrong with the obsession I've developed to maintain the image I think people expect to have of me. Especially since the fact of the matter is that no one cares what I wear or whether or not I'm wearing make up.
So maybe this is a simple answer. Maybe sweatpants are an easy outward manifestation of my inward changes. Maybe I'll even wear them to work tomorrow...
Baby steps, right?
I feel changes in myself and I want them to be tangible already. But I guess it doesn't really work that way. I'm going to have to take baby steps. Which brings me to sweatpants. I love sweatpants. Who doesn't, right? They are so comfortable and warm, and they expand with your body when you overeat. They are perfect. Well, they are kind of perfect. You see, I have this... complex, I guess, that prevents me from being able to wear sweatpants in any other vicinity than the comfort of my own home. I work in an environment in which comfortable clothing is the preferred attire by most of the employees; sweatpants are perfectly acceptable work wear if you ask any of my coworkers. But I can't get over it - if it's not pajama day, I'm not wearing sweatpants (...did I mention I work at a daycare?).
I actually made an attempt to wear sweatpants in public last Friday night. I went to the mall, Wal-Mart, and a movie with a friend. We had decided that this was going to be a relaxing time and we should be comfortable, so I agreed that it would be OK to wear sweatpants in public, just this once. It was not OK. The whole time I felt like people were looking at me and planning to nominate me for What Not to Wear. I felt the need to explain to every one of them - total strangers - the reason I was wearing such an outfit. I felt like I should have been heading to bed, not out in public.
I don't know why I'm like this. No one sat me down as a child to explain to me that one should never wear lounge-wear in front of one's peers. Actually, I think most of my friends and family have quite the opposite perspective and wouldn't even notice if I wore sweatpants to the mall.
Obviously, this isn't just about sweatpants. It's about getting over my need to control what people think of me. I love to look nice. I always will. I love to wear cute clothes and fix my hair and wear make up. And there's nothing wrong with that. But there is something wrong with the obsession I've developed to maintain the image I think people expect to have of me. Especially since the fact of the matter is that no one cares what I wear or whether or not I'm wearing make up.
So maybe this is a simple answer. Maybe sweatpants are an easy outward manifestation of my inward changes. Maybe I'll even wear them to work tomorrow...
Baby steps, right?
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Day 1
Ok. So here goes something I've wanted to start for a while. Something that makes me equally nervous and excited. My life has been full of some pretty big changes recently - the loss of a loved one, the loss of a relationship, and what seemed like the loss of a future. But I'm starting to realize that these losses have prompted what is beginning to feel like the prime time of my life. It is time for me to finally take charge of my life, and that is what this blog will document. I have begun a list of goals for my life that I am going to accomplish starting today. There is nothing holding me back from determining what I want for my life and making it happen. I have held back for far too long. I have lived my life consumed by what I think others want from me, by fear of not being perfect. And I can't do it anymore. It is so freeing to think that this is my life. That it's OK if it doesn't meet everyone's approval. That I don't have to be perfect.
So here goes nothing. A journey that is sure to be an interesting one, at least. It will consist of plenty of random thoughts, hopes, dreams, and whatever else I feel like sharing. I'm excited! And I'm celebrating day 1.
So here goes nothing. A journey that is sure to be an interesting one, at least. It will consist of plenty of random thoughts, hopes, dreams, and whatever else I feel like sharing. I'm excited! And I'm celebrating day 1.
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