Ethiopia and Christmas

I came home to Christmas.

There was a pretty tree on the baggage claim carousel and evergreen tinsel hanging from the ceiling.

The Western world—often unknowingly—inviting God to be with us for one month of the year, every year, with plastic decorations and a rush of capitalism.

So maybe I'm cynical.

Or maybe it's that I haven't been able to stop thinking about—something—in the weeks since coming home.

I finally made it to our home church this week, after almost two full weeks of being home. The Christmas buzz has only become more intense with the start of Advent and Christmas shopping. It doesn't help that I go to church at the busiest and highest-grossing mall in Canada.

And we're singing Christmas carols at church now, too.

Emmanuel, Emmanuel. God incarnate, here to dwell. 

Don't get me wrong—Emmanuel is for all of us. God is with all of us, in all of our mess, in every circumstance and context of life.

But as this Sunday's Advent reading is read, the scene of where God specifically chose to come to be with us, at that specific point in history all those years ago—the place He chose when He could only choose one—comes barrelling into my mind.

It's the thing I can't stop thinking about—the thing that's been resting heavy on my heart since coming home to Christmas.

And I'm suddenly back in the small home of a single mother in Ethiopia, reaching across to squeeze her arm in reassurance as tears flow while she tells me her story.

God is with us, there.

Tigist + Yeabsira

We like to invite him into our big and bright white Christmases of the West—without even a thought that His choice for where He would come be with us and spend that first Christmas was a small, messy, quiet, humble and dim brown Christmas in the Middle East.

I'm not saying He won't meet us where we are—He will fight every distraction and all our excess to get our attention and capture our hearts.

But I just can't stop thinking about how close He felt as I listened to the stories of mothers who were afraid when they first heard of their pregnancy...yet chose to say a brave yes anyways.

That's all I've been thinking about, actually.

I came home to Christmas...but in so many ways, I came home from experiencing all that Christmas was, is and should be—and no matter how many times I do it, it keeps on wrecking me, shaping me, forming me...and I couldn't be more thankful.

---

Hi. I decided to write a thing and post it on my blog! Crazy. A little tag to it...

What they don't tell you about reverse culture shock is that it's never the same twice. Each time, it's different and it doesn't necessarily get easier, but it's never quite the blinding intensity and year-long anguish of the first time...nor does it follow the same path as the last time. It's a unique story every time.

What they don't tell you about reverse culture shock is that sometimes you might feel incredibly entitled, childish and privileged for experiencing it, particularly when it's part of your (dream) job...and that writing about it in a public forum sometimes helps like it did when you were fifteen, and sometimes that just makes you feel crazy vulnerable in ways that you don't want to at twenty-one (or ever).

But I think vulnerability is good? Or I'm just part of the narcissistic generation that puts their lives on the internet. At least I'm self-aware...or maybe I am cynical. ;)

Anyways, I just wanted to pop in on this highly-neglected blog to share some reflections and give some (very small) peeks into what my experience of travelling to and back from Ethiopia was like, to add to (or in case you missed) what's on Instagram. To take the responsibility seriously of stewarding the stories of those I met—and my own story—well.

And also to wish you a very Merry Christmas! ... Because apparently I really can't promise that I'll write here again within the next 6 months.

May you experience Emmanuel—God with us—wherever you find yourself in this season. Wishing you and yours expectant hope, subversive peace, radical joy and boundless love throughout the holidays and in the New Year ahead. —ae

Aleppo and Advent

Just over 2000 years ago, an oppressed, forgotten people waited for a Saviour.

A Messiah. A King.

And they expected chariots and fire and revolution and war. They expected the overthrowing of their oppressors by a mighty king and ruthless warrior.

Instead they got a baby. A carpenter. A small-town boy who just so happened to be God Himself.

This is what we celebrate at Christmas.

Today, oppressed and forgotten people wait for a saviour all over our bleeding, broken world. Today, the oppressed, forgotten people of Aleppo wait to be saved, and many wait in vain.

And we expect fire to rain from heaven. Miraculous intervention. We expect Him to move mountains and do the supernatural.

It’s the season of advent. A season of waiting. And we wait. We wait and we wait and we wait... But what if He’s waiting for us? What if He’s saying: “I already came. And I left it now to you to continue.”

What if this whole bleeding world is waiting for us to be the Body of Christ—broken and poured out and given?

We wait. And rightfully so, we wait for the day that He makes all things new.

But perhaps we can do more. Perhaps He is actively making all things new and how can He do that but through His Church? Through His Body. Through us.

So, as we wait in this advent season, let’s consider that maybe the world is waiting for us. Waiting for us to stand up and mean it when we say “never again”. Waiting for us to stand up and be the Church. Waiting for us to stand up and be the broken-and-poured-out Body of Christ to a world that so desperately needs Him.

Let’s not utter Come, Lord Jesus, unless we’re willing to be the vessels through which He comes.

Let’s not celebrate His birth unless we’re willing to be the ones who breathe a courageous, Mary-like yes to birthing Love Himself into the world each and every day.

Because it’s advent, and millions of people are waiting for a Saviour.

So, come, Lord Jesus. Come.

Here are 3 ways we can can be the Church to the people of Aleppo and Syria:

:: Donate to the Preemptive Love Coalition {Related: The World-Changing Art of Not Being A Sham This Christmas: 3 Ways to Help Aleppo For Real from Ann Voskamp... read this!!} or Mennonite Central Committee's Syria Response. 

:: Sign this petition, calling on the Canadian government to protect the people of Aleppo.

:: Sponsor a refugee family to come to Canada.

Christmas Reflections

My draft box is full of the real good-intention to post something. Promise.

The world has been a hurting place this fall. Even a bit more than normal, it seems. There was terror and intolerance and yet still, the First World I call home went about life and Christmas and shopping - unfazed. And words started, but they never ended, as evidenced by my draft box. Maybe they'll come in the New Year, but we all know how the "blog more" resolution always turns out... ;)

The ending to those words didn't get written not because I didn't know the ending, but because I think I got far too excited about the ending before I got to write it, and I would spring up to join the awesome people taking action on this great hope before I remembered to hit "post" on those words.

And so I think I'll write a collective ending to all those hurting beginnings here, as the fall comes to a close and I spend some time reflecting at Christmas...

The conclusion and the response to a world of hurt is this:

Oh, how He loves us. 

Even now. Especially now. 

He hurts for His hurting creation more than any of us ever could or would. 

He hurts so much that he came down in the midst of it all to bear the hurt for us. He came down from glory and became a helpless baby and a human-just-like-you-and-me.

He spent His life demonstrating a Love that would heal all the hurt of this world, and our role? Simply believe this Gift to be real. Accept this Gift of Love with thanks. 

Then He culminates this life of Love with His arms stretched across a tree... Bearing every last hurt, pain and brokenness this world had and would ever see, declaring It is finished.

Dear hurting world... All our hurt and brokenness - He has already carried it for us. He longs to continue to carry it, and simply invites us to love with that same Love He showed us all those years ago.

To make room to birth Love into this world again and again and again...

...so that this Love might bear every hurt until it is all healed away.

That is what we celebrate this, and every Christmas.


Merry, Merry Christmas, to you and yours.


Year-end family updates from my Mama can be found on her blog... Check it out!

Worlds Collide

As we barrel in towards Christmas, a re-post... One of my favourites from last year's Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words.

You notice her. She’s got one of those faces that makes you look twice. She’s maybe only a few years older than you. You wonder what it’d be like, to stand out in vibrant colour like that, instead of always being the faded black and white in the background. She catches your eye and for a moment you think she’s noticed you. Then she opens the door and slips into the warm world of red, snowflake-covered cups of low-fat, double pump, extra whip. You shut your eyes and lean your head against the wall, bitterly trying to tune out a Christmas carol coming from who-knows-where. His law is love, and His gospel is peace. Yeah, right.

A few minutes later, you feel the fleeting heat on your cheek for a moment as the door opens again but you don’t bother to open your eyes or reach for your cardboard sign, because you know the answer will be no, as usual. You understand but you don’t all at once. They have places to go and family to see and you just don’t belong in that world of vibrant colour. You’ll always be faded background noise, the part of the 7 billion that enables the other part to drink from their red, snowflake-covered cups.

"Excuse me?" Your eyes flutter open as you realize the voice is close enough to possibly be talking to you. It’s her, and she’s holding out a red, snowflake-covered cup, and a pretty paper bag. “I bought you some hot chocolate. And a muffin.” You stare at her. “I mean, you don’t have to - Actually I was just - I mean, it’s for you.” She fumbles slightly and holds it out and you can’t believe this face that lives in colour and makes you look twice is even capable of stumbling over her words. You reach out and grab today’s grace. Today’s healing. And you decide that it’s enough for you to believe that His gospel is peace again, at least for today.

-

You notice her. She’s got one of those faces that makes you look twice. She’s maybe only a few years younger than you. You wonder what it’d be like, to fade into a quiet black and white background, instead of always living in fast-paced, vibrant colour. She catches your eye and for a moment you think she’s noticed you. You panic, and quickly open the door and slip into the warm world of red, snowflake-covered cups of low-fat, double pump, extra whip. You shut your eyes and think about what that girl must think of all these people running past her for five dollar coffees and you hear a carol in the background and you wonder if she even believes it. His law is love and His gospel is peace. Yeah, right.

You step up to the counter and order a peppermint hot chocolate. Then you surprise yourself and order a second, along with an apple-cinnamon muffin. You push open the door, and you’re not sure why your heart’s beating out of your chest. You’ve nailed every big presentation you’ve ever made and somehow you’re nervous about offering this girl some breakfast. She’s still there, eyes closed, head leaned back and you understand and you don’t all at once. You just don’t know that black and white world. You’ve always lived in this intoxicating vibrant colour and you just hate that these two worlds even exist and you know you have nothing and everything to do with their existence.

“Excuse me?” Her eyes flutter open and your heart beats faster. You hold out the red, snowflake-covered cup, and the paper bag. “I bought you some hot chocolate. And a muffin.” She stares at you. “I mean, you don’t have to - Actually I was just - I mean, it’s for you.” You fumble slightly and hold it out and you wonder if this face that lives in black and white and makes you look twice ever feels nervous holding out her cardboard sign. She reaches out and grabs the meager offering and this is today's grace. Today’s healing. And you decide that it’s enough for you to believe that His gospel is peace again, at least for today.

Merry Two-Days til Christmas... Let's live like His law is love, in this season and always.

Day Seven: Unexpected

they didn’t expect her.

or him,

or that little town,

or that barn,

or those animals,

or that manger.

they didn’t really expect a baby,

and they certainly didn’t expect to miss it.

but in all their preparations, all their fanfare, they missed it all,

and the lowly, unprepared shepherds receive the birth announcement,

and the outcasted crazies are the only ones that follow the star.

yeah, it was unexpected and strange and upside down -

the perfect beginning to this unexpected, strange, upside down life

that sparks this unexpected, strange, upside down revolution.


may we never let our fanfare cause us to miss Him and the unexpected, strange, upside down life He calls us to. Merry, Merry Christmas to you & yours!

Part of a Christmas series here on the blog: Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words. 'Twas a whirlwind but we made it here. Hope these words have blessed you even a little in these past few days. In case you missed it:


Day One: Back to the Manger
Day Two: Fresh & New
Day Three: Worlds Collide
Day Four: Christmas Light
Day Five: The Courage That Saves the World

Day Six: That Bright Star

Day Six: That Bright Star

She burst outside and stared up into the night sky, sick and tired of her father’s endless preachings.

It’d been a long 400 years.

Rachel was already fed up with all this “waiting for God” - and she’d only been alive for the last 15.

Like really - you’d think after the first century of God-silence, these people would just give up.

Her father was a priest, and of course he was a sold-out believer that God was still coming, that He would speak.

That somehow, after 400 long, long years of silence, God would randomly decide to show up.

Of course, news of Zachariah’s big moment with God had gotten around, and that was what her father was raving about now - how it was coming, for real. Finally, God was back.

In Rachel’s opinion, any desperate old guy could make a bunch of stuff up.

Now, if God really cared, if He was that great, He’d prove it without making His people wait for forever.

Are you real?

She asked the air, the God who wasn’t listening - not listening whether you prayed “the right way” in the temple, or just flat-out spoke it or thought it into the wide open world that He’d apparently created.

She shifted her gaze out towards Bethlehem, and saw a bright star shining in the sky.

And she suddenly something shifted and she felt it, overwhelming and simply, profoundly real -

God, right here. On earth.

She stilled to try and hear if He would speak, but He didn’t.

And that was okay.

For now, a presence was more than enough.

And she wondered if that bright star was the start of something new.

Something where God didn’t live in temples for only Zachariah and her father to meet -

But in the hearts of young, humble girls too, just like her.



If you're somewhere in those 400 years, take heart, and may you find the strength this Christmas to hold out for that bright star. Merry Christmas Eve.

Part of a Christmas series here on the blog: Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words.

Day One: Back to the Manger

Day Two: Fresh & New

Day Three: Worlds Collide

Day Four: Christmas Light

Day Five: The Courage That Saves the World

ps power back here at home now - so very thankful. still thinking of those who may be left waiting until after Christmas.

Day Five: The Courage That Saves the World

M ost would've said no.

A  girl such as this, however,

R ight then and there says for it to be done just as His will desires. 

Y eah, that's the courage, that's the faith that saves the world. 

A late day five in a Christmas series on the blog: Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words. 

Day One: Back to the Manger

Day Two: Fresh & New

Day Three: Worlds Collide

Day Four: Christmas Light

a short and late one today in the wake of the aftermath of a huge ice storm up here in the great white north - coming up on hour #42 without electricity. thankful for family with power who have taken us in. especially appreciating all we have and all we take for granted during these past couple days without heat/light/internet/the works. fitting for the christmas season. appreciate grace in the wait for tomorrow's post, too - internet and power is spotty and the time to sit and quietly write is also rare. praying for things to return to normal soon - and forever thinking of those who live without each and everyday. talk soon, and stay warm to all you readers in a similar situation to me tonight.

Day Four: Christmas Light

so, so many years before it all culminated,

separated by many years,

various men sat penning the crazy story.

in glowing candlelight, they almost had to listen twice to make sure they were hearing it all right -

a virgin and her betrothed.

she’s pregnant.

the two souls are walking towards bethlehem, his hometown.

yet they courageously and fervently walk into the everything unknown and risky, too.

because listen close to this part -

the baby within her is God.
hundreds and hundreds of years later, it all happens just as those prophets penned it.

under a bright star shining into the darkest, lowliest place on earth,

God Himself is a baby, born to a virgin.

prophesied in candlelight, fulfilled in starlight.

and so, so many years after, this story of hope is read by lamplight, screen light, sunlight...

shining light into a million billion lowly dark places.

Part of a Christmas series here on the blog: Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words.

Day One: Back to the Manger

Day Two: Fresh & New

Day Three: Worlds Collide

Day Three: Worlds Collide

You notice her. She’s got one of those faces that makes you look twice. She’s maybe only a few years older than you. You wonder what it’d be like, to stand out in vibrant colour like that, instead of always being the faded black and white in the background. She catches your eye and for a moment you think she’s noticed you. Then she opens the door and slips into the warm world of red, snowflake-covered cups of low-fat, double pump, extra whip. You shut your eyes and lean your head against the wall, bitterly trying to tune out a Christmas carol coming from who-knows-where. His law is love, and His gospel is peace. Yeah, right.

A few minutes later, you feel the fleeting heat on your cheek for a moment as the door opens again but you don’t bother to open your eyes or reach for your cardboard sign, because you know the answer will be no, as usual. You understand but you don’t all at once. They have places to go and family to see and you just don’t belong in that world of vibrant colour. You’ll always be faded background noise, the part of the 7 billion that enables the other part to drink from their red, snowflake-covered cups. 

"Excuse me?" Your eyes flutter open as you realize the voice is close enough to possibly be talking to you. It’s her, and she’s holding out a red, snowflake-covered cup, and a pretty paper bag. “I bought you some hot chocolate. And a muffin.” You stare at her. “I mean, you don’t have to - Actually I was just - I mean, it’s for you.” She fumbles slightly and holds it out and you can’t believe this face that lives in colour and makes you look twice is even capable of stumbling over her words. You reach out and grab today’s grace. Today’s healing. And you decide that it’s enough for you to believe that His gospel is peace again, at least for today.

-

You notice her. She’s got one of those faces that makes you look twice. She’s maybe only a few years younger than you. You wonder what it’d be like, to fade into a quiet black and white background, instead of always living in fast-paced, vibrant colour. She catches your eye and for a moment you think she’s noticed you. You panic, and quickly open the door and slip into the warm world of red, snowflake-covered cups of low-fat, double pump, extra whip. You shut your eyes and think about what that girl must think of all these people running past her for five dollar coffees and you hear a carol in the background and you wonder if she even believes it. His law is love and His gospel is peace. Yeah, right.

You step up to the counter and order a peppermint hot chocolate. Then you surprise yourself and order a second, along with an apple-cinnamon muffin. You push open the door, and you’re not sure why your heart’s beating out of your chest. You’ve nailed every big presentation you’ve ever made and somehow you’re nervous about offering this girl some breakfast. She’s still there, eyes closed, head leaned back and you understand and you don’t all at once. You just don’t know that black and white world. You’ve always lived in this intoxicating vibrant colour and you just hate that these two worlds even exist and you know you have nothing and everything to do with their existence. 

“Excuse me?” Her eyes flutter open and your heart beats faster. You hold out the red, snowflake-covered cup, and the paper bag. “I bought you some hot chocolate. And a muffin.” She stares at you. “I mean, you don’t have to - Actually I was just - I mean, it’s for you.” You fumble slightly and hold it out and you wonder if this face that lives in black and white and makes you look twice ever feels nervous holding out her cardboard sign. She reaches out and grabs the meager offering and this is today's grace. Today’s healing. And you decide that it’s enough for you to believe that His gospel is peace again, at least for today.

Part of a Christmas series here on the blog: Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words. 

Day One: Back to the Manger

Day Two: Fresh & New

Day Two: Fresh & New

“It’s been a hard year.”

It’s a simple but terribly weighty phrase that she speaks too casually.

Her eyes meet mine and I see more than a hard year in there.

I can tell Christmas won’t be pretty.

It’ll just be a reminder of all the holes in her life - in her family, in her friends, in her smile and in her hope.

I pull her close and whisper a desperate prayer on her behalf.

Sometimes wrapping arms around a girl and lifting your arms in surrender is all you can do.

I’m holding broken and I’m holding hurt and I’m wondering why God would make it so hard for her to believe He’s real.

And I realize He doesn’t.

We do.

We’ve built a world that screens God from her and He hurts for her more than I hurt for her and more importantly, He hurts for her more than she hurts for herself.

Patience is just so darn hard sometimes.

When worship’s over we head for the exit together.

And she whispers it almost scared to believe it - “There was just this presence - did you feel it too?

It was just... God.”

I smile quietly because it’s enough for today.

She knows He’s there, and that’s enough to get through for the time being.

We step out the doors and snow is falling all around, covering black slush and stepped-on snow angels -

and blanketing the world fresh and new.

Part of a Christmas series here on the blog: Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words.

Day One

Back to the Manger

It's exactly 7 days 'til Christmas - and I'm about to do something crazy.

Seven straight days of Christmas Creative Writing - a 7-day journey to the manger through creative words. 

Seven pieces to lead us straight to Christmas. Maybe you'll join me and read along here. :)

Merry Christmas!

-

Day One: Back to the Manger

In a shepherds’ field near Bethlehem; 10 years after the birth of Christ.

“Do you remember it, Pascal?”

This shepherd’s eyes dance as he nudges his friend, careful to keep at least one sparkling eye on his flock.

“The sky just ripped open. The angels. The symphony of it all. I was terrified. And you,” A spurt of laughter consumes the jovial shepherd, “You looked as if you’d seen a ghost!” His laughter continues.

“Glory to God in the heavens! And peace on earth!

Do you remember?”

“No.”

Pascal’s face is stone. He shifts his staff from one hand to the other and turns bored eyes to his merry companion. “Keep your eyes on the sheep, Martin. We can’t afford to lose another one.”

“Ohhhh.” Martin’s jovial mood doesn’t falter as he waves last week’s incident off. “I found the little lamb, didn’t I?” He tosses a grin at Pascal, but it’s not returned.

Silence.

“Ok, Pascal, what is it? What’s the matter with you, you don’t remember?”

Eventually, Pascal heaves a heavy sigh. “Ten years, Martin. Ten years. So what if I don’t remember?”

His look drills deep into his friend’s eyes. “Sometimes I think it was all a dream. Crazy shepherds we were, who made something up to brighten the long, dreary days.

‘A Saviour! A Messiah!’ - really, Martin? Really? It’s been ten years; have we heard of any saving feats of this so-called King?”

Martin looks back in stunned silence.

“I didn’t think so.”

After a slight pause, Martin grasps the shoulder of his friend. “Pascal! I know just what you need.”

The energetic one of the two jumps to his feet and pulls the other with him.

“Martin -”

“Oh - calm down. The sheep will be fine for a few hours. I’ll tell Jeffery to keep an eye out when we walk by.”

“Jeffery’s over half a field away!” Pascal protests. 

But there’s no stopping Martin now. The solemn shepherd reluctantly follows his enthusiastic counterpart.

Over a few hills and towards town, and Pascal knows where his friend is taking him.

And suddenly they’re right there - in front of the stable.

Life has resumed as normal - much has changed, and ten years’ time has taken it’s toll.

Pascal realizes that business has gone on as planned here in this stable, unrelenting and unaware of the holy event that took place between these walls.

“Oh.” Pascal’s face softens to quiet reverence.

The manger is still the same one. Same place.

Somehow, it’s stood the test of time, perhaps the only nod to acknowledgment of the holy birth.

O Holy Night.

And he can see it all - the faithful girl and her courageous husabnd. The animals, the hay, the bright star.

And the baby.

The Saviour.

And he knows they didn’t just make it up.

In fact, perhaps he can even believe it again -

Believe Him again.

He whispers it to Martin, himself and that baby -

“I remember.”


In this week coming up on Christmas, may you find your way back to the manger - no matter how long it’s been - to remember how Love came down for you.

'Tis the Season to Go Shopping

So, from what I'm told, I can gather that today is the unofficial kickoff to the Christmas season.

Americans get to kick off everything. {Insert grumpy Canadian face here. Wait. Canadians are never grumpy.}

And, from what I'm told, I can gather that people actually trample each other to get to sales?

Huh? {Eh?}

{Insert I'm-happy-to-be-Canadian face here.}

Anyways, before you jump off into the abyss of a mall, let me give you an easy [and really awesome] alternative.

You're about to love me forever.

Introducing (or re-introducing) the GIFTS OF COMPASSION catalogue. :)

She's as excited as I am. ;)

So basically, do all your Christmas shopping here [or here, if you're American]. Because it's awesome. [Really.]

Here's how it works: You buy your dad a library ($100). But, he doesn't actually get the library. A community in the third world does, and Compassion will send you a card that you can give to your dad, with a picture of a library and some background stuff on where his Christmas gift went.

Or, buy your teacher some chickens ($16) and they'll be given to a family in the third world, and Compassion will send you a card for your teacher.

Or, you know that 15/16-year-old in your life that's going for Driver's Ed soon? Buy them Driver's Ed lessons ($142). No, not for them. For a Compassion child's daddy, so that he can have a great source of income as a driver. And yup, Compassion will send you a card! :)

And, you don't have to give your dad/teacher/teenager just a card. Get creative!

Partner the library with a book for dad. Or the chickens with those egg holders or a mug with a funny chicken cartoon on it for your teacher. Partner the Driver's Ed classes with a contribution to 16-year-old's car/insurance/gas/lessons fund [or just get them a key chain. ;)].

And, one last thing, on a different note. If you sponsor a child in the next couple days, maaaaybee your child will know by Christmas. It will be the most amazing Christmas gift ever - a sponsor. :)

And even if they don't find out by Christmas - it can be the best Christmas gift ever, for YOU. :)

Peace On Earth

Christmas... It totally snuck up on me! :P

I'm gonna keep this short and sweet, because you really should go spend some time with family instead of reading my blog right now. ;)

This Christmas, I hope you find happiness not in a colourfully wrapped box or at the mall, but in giving: A smile, spare change, some time, a hot meal, or a listening ear. I hope your Christmas is filled with joy, grace, love, hope and peace. And I hope that you'll look up and find that bright star, and that you'd follow it until you find Jesus, wrapped in cloth and lying in a manger, inviting you to be at peace, inviting you to love like there's no tomorrow, inviting you into his family.

Merry Christmas!!! <3

"Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased." -Luke 2-14

A Very Late Monday Mania...

Six days 'til Christmas. :)

4 days 'til the break, then only ONE school-less day to wait. ;D

Terribly sorry the only things on this blog lately has been Monday posts... We will get back to two or three posts a week probably in February, when this sem is O-V-E-R! (And I say goodbye to Geography class forever! :D)

Anyways, Merry 6-days-til Christmas! :)

"But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy. It is for all people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you. He is Christ the Lord.'" Luke 2:10-11

Monday Mania - Mary, Did You Know?

No, she didn't know a lot of that. But she had faith anyways.

The angel Gabriel tells her all this shocking stuff, about having a baby that's God's son, and she's troubled at first, but at the end, she's just says: "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled."

She didn't say "No" or "I'll think about it, come back in a few weeks." She had faith that this was God's oh-so-perfect plan for her and was just like, "Let's go, God!"

Mary was not much older than me, perhaps even my age, and I ask myself: Could I have faith like hers? Could I trust like she did? Would I be able to, without missing a beat, say "Yes"?

Her faith amazes and inspires me.

So, everyday, I will strive to have faith like Mary's.

"But the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favour with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob's descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.'


'I am the Lord's servant,' Mary answered. 'May your word to me be fulfilled.' Then the angel left her." - Luke 1:30-33, 38

The Little Drummer Boy

I love the story of the Little Drummer Boy... Don't you?

I mean, I have so little to offer Jesus, but he takes it anyways.

He takes it and turns it into something beautiful.

Similar to the boy with the 5 loaves and 2 fish. He gave Jesus all he had, and the little that it was, it was enough for Jesus to do something amazing.

I mean, I'm sure Jesus could've just gone "abracadabra" and bread and fish would've showed up anyways... But he wants to see my faith, he wants to involve me, to give my all. He wants to use me, and he WILL use me, the little that I am.

So, I will play my drum, and I will play my best, knowing that He's smiling at me.




The Story of the Video :)

Seventeen Days...

Thanks for reading! :)

Christmas Must Be Something More

Hey so...

20 more days! :)



I love this song. Taylor Swift isn't ashamed to put Jesus' name in her songs and acknowledge him as the reason for the season and for her life. :) Love it.

And speaking of famous people not ashamed of their relationship with Christ... Not to get on the Tim Tebow bandwagon or anything, but you know, he's kinda cool. ;) What makes him even cooler is that he's born in the Philippines, the same place that Rochelle and Florianlyn live, the same place my parents were born and the same place that stole my heart this summer! :) And what's even COOLER, is that The Tim Tebow Foundation does a lot of work with orphans in the Philippines and is opening a children's hospital that'll be helping kids who can't afford it - and need's God's love. :) Sweetness.

Have a great Monday!

Mary said, "My soul gives glory to the Lord. My spirit delights in God my Savior. He has taken note of me even though I am not important. From now on all people will call me blessed." -Luke 1:46-48