Soup Friday

I don't have a Fiction Friday for you this week.  Why?  Oh, I just don't feel like writing one.  I always get a little apathetic when the weather gets colder.  Anyway, please accept this picture of me eating soup as an apology.

Fiction Friday will be back next week.  Maybe.

Sunday Update: Hope

We have started studying Luke in my Sunday School Adult Bible Study class at church.  So today we talked about Christmas, since part of the Christmas story from the Bible is told in the first two chapters of Luke.

I love Christmas.  I love Christmas so much that I don't like confining to one day out of the year.  In fact, I don't even like confining it to one week or one month out of the year.  I don't even like confining it to a season.  My brother has a birthday in mid December, so my mom always delayed putting up Christmas decorations until AFTER his birthday.  I understand that she did this to keep my brother's birthday as separate from Christmas as possible, but it drove me nuts (still does).  For me, it's okay to start celebrating Christmas in late August or early September.  That's when we start working on Christmas music for the choir at my church.  So it's not uncommon for me to start listening to Christmas music in September--even stuff that's not related to the music we're singing in choir.  I try to keep it toned down a little since (for SOME reason) a lot of people seem to think that you can't celebrate Christmas until after Thanksgiving.  What's THAT about?  Thanksgiving is PART of Christmas.  So is Halloween.  So is all of fall.  It all leads up to Christmas.  It's like a whole wonderful time of the year when stores are filled with candy corn, cranberry sauce, and Christmas lights. 

I love it.  To some extent, I even love the commercialism--which seems strange, but let me try to explain that.   I don't like the whole idea that everyone needs to spend exorbitant amounts of money on tons of gifts that people don't really need.  I don't like the idea of wastefulness--because let's face it, your kids will live if they don't get the latest new toy.  Your grandma will live if you don't get her a new pair of isotoner slippers.  Aunt Bertha doesn't need another Cracker Barrel gift card.  There is a lot of silliness that comes with the "Christmas season" that kind of irks me.  BUT I like the busyness that comes as a result of people going out to buy presents, and I do think it's possible for people to give presents without being wasteful.  Christmas is a time to say "I love you" with gifts, and no, there's not really any clear mandate in Scripture for that.  We can try to justify it all by saying, "Oh, but the wise men gave gifts to Jesus," or even "God gave Jesus to the world."  Really, there's no Scriptural reason for Christmas to be a time to give presents.  I just don't think there's anything wrong with sharing gifts with someone you love.  I do think it's unnecessary to give/receive HUGE presents that put people into debt, but it's the little things that make me tremendously happy--both giving and receiving them.  I like making cookies and chocolate-dipped pretzels and giving them to families who mean a lot to me.  I like saying "Thank you" to people who have supported or helped me by knitting them a scarf (the only thing I'm really good at knitting--because I knit like I play the guitar...I can fool people who don't know anything about it into thinking I'm good at it).  And yes, I like getting unexpected surprises, tokens of love and appreciation, from others.  It's part of the "magic" of the season, the shared love in the form of gifts.  But that's not even close to being the main reason why I love Christmas.

So what is the main reason why I love Christmas?  Is it the music?  Is it the food?  Is it the weather (I actually hate cold and snow, unless it's at Christmas!)?  Is it the movies?  Is it something I inherited from my grandmother, who LOVED Christmas and celebrated it all year long? 

What's the Sunday School answer here?  What am I supposed to say?  I'm supposed to say, "I love Christmas because it's Jesus' birthday!"  But...that's not the main reason why I love Christmas.  Why?  I guess it's because I'm selfish.

When I was about four years old, my mom told me something I never forgot.  She probably doesn't even remember saying this, but I remember it vividly.  I was unwrapping Christmas presents at my grandparents' house on Christmas afternoon.  I'd already gotten the "Santa haul" from home, and now it was time to get the "relatives' haul."  I remember the scene very clearly.  I was sitting on the floor by the ottoman of the chair by the sliding glass door that overlooked the front porch.  One or two of their seventy bazgillion feral cats (they lived out in the country) were probably out on that porch, looking through that door at me, trying to soak in some of the indoor warmth through the glass.  I had just opened my last present, and was surrounded by boxes, toys, wrapping paper, and the comic strips my aunt used to wrap presents in.  And I turned to my mom and said something.  I don't remember what I said, but her response was unforgettable.  I was either complaining about how I didn't have any more presents or bragging about how much I'd gotten or something like that, and my mom said something profound.  She said, "Ruth, the older you get, the more you're going to want to give things than get things."

I remember that so clearly because it was impossible for my four year old brain to understand that logic.  What?  How could I EVER be happier giving than getting?  Getting stuff is AWESOME; giving stuff means I'll...have to sacrifice.  Sacrifice doesn't make sense to most four year olds.  In fact, it doesn't make much sense to most adults, either. 

And maybe I should be ashamed of myself for admitting this, but my favorite part about Christmas is still NOT about what I give.  It's still about what I get.  The difference between the four year old me and the thirty-one year old me is that I'm no longer so tremendously excited about getting stuff.  The most important part of Christmas is that God gave Himself to me.  And I guess that does make me selfish, but the fact is, I need to be selfish, here.  I need God.  I don't always understand sacrifice, but God understands it well.  Giving, love, sacrifice, mercy--that's kind of what He's about.  So I do get excited about receiving Him, all the while praising Him for being the holy and righteous Giver, both just and merciful.  It takes a certain degree of humility to realize that we don't really have anything to give.  We can't be the Giver.  But there can be so much joy in taking what we're offered, and God offers what we need.  And Christmas is the celebration of the culmination of all the promises of God, which came in the form of a weak, human baby.  No...I don't really think I understand the concept of sacrifice at all.

And for the past several Christmases, I've been focusing on words associated with Christmas.  It's been a different word every year.  Last year, it was Peace.  The year before, it was Joy.  The year before that, it was Star.  And I know this is weird for some people since it's so early in the year, but I already have a theme word for this upcoming Christmas.  And that word is Hope.

I have nothing.  I am nothing.  God changed that forever with the gift of Himself, which is why someone as hopeless and helpless as I am can have such great and unfailing Hope.

I've said all of this because I'm about to start my new routine.  I've got a day off for Labor Day tomorrow.  Within reason, I can do pretty much whatever I want to do tomorrow.  But come Tuesday, I start preschool.  I start a regular weekly work schedule (and filling in gaps where I can) with the drop-in childcare centers where I work.  I will continue to watch the girls two-three afternoons a week.  I'm also going to make regular time to edit my writing (not starting any new projects at the moment because that's not going to help me become a published writer--I gotta focus more on editing and preparing queries).  So for me, the fall is about to begin, and the only reason for fall to begin is that fall will eventually lead to Christmas.  Sorry, that's just how I think.  Calendar wise, everything eventually leads back to Christmas.

But as this summer has ended and this new season has begun, I've already started feeling this strong sense of hopefulness.  I know that feelings aren't always reliable, but sometimes there's a sense of something that just can't be shaken.  I'm expectant without even really knowing what to expect--just that something good, possibly life-changing, is coming if I'll work and wait for it, something that's coming soon in the advent of this new fall routine.  And I'm learning that because of the "upper-case H" Hope I have in Christ, it's okay to "lowercase h" hope for smaller things.  If I'm disappointed in something I've hoped for, that's okay.  It's okay because the greatest Hope I'll ever have won't disappoint.  No matter what happens to me, I am still God's, and He is still mine.  Oh, I love Christmas!  Lol!

So I'm entering this fall/Christmas season with my head lifted up.  I don't know what I'm looking for, but I'm looking.  I still have a feeling whatever happens will take me by happy surprise.  That's usually how it works. 

Summer

Ever since my preschool teacher gig ended the last week of May, I've had a lot of extra time off.  Even with two (actually, due to some boring stuff I don't want to go into, it's now officially THREE) other jobs apart from the preschool thing, I can't seem to get enough hours to fully occupy my time.  And I know that when schools get out around here, I'm going to have to devote full days instead of full afternoons to my nanny job--but in the meantime, I have a lot more time to do absolutely nothing.

Now, if this time had been handed to me back in January or February, I know exactly what I would do with it.  I'd work on writing stuff until my fingers fell off.  Since I kind of like my fingers attached to my hands, I guess it's a good thing that I didn't have a lot of free time then.

The thing is, there's something about the summer that makes me feel...well, I can't think of a word for it.  Lazy was the first word that came to my mind, but that's not what I'm looking for.  I mean, I can be lazy (yesterday was an example of how I can unforgivably waste a lot of time playing computer games when I'm supposed to be working on writing--and I hope never to repeat it--but something tells me I will).  But I think a better term to describe how summer makes me feel is...relaxed.

I blame it on the fact that I spent my entire childhood going to school for every season besides summer.  When summer came, no more work.  I got to sleep in late and watch tv and read books and play outside and go swimming and go on vacation and just do nothing until August.  And my parents are teachers, so they had summer off, too.  I had no concept of people actually having to WORK in the summer.  And I guess even now part of that mentality is still present.

Sometimes I get really worked up and think I have to do a lot of stuff--and work is important.  The things I do with the time I've been given are vitally important.  But sometimes I start thinking that if I'm not doing this one certain thing (like writing, going to work, etc.), then I'm wasting my time.  And summer is a nice reminder that it's okay to relax.  It's a reminder I need annually.

Last summer I decided that I was going to try to experience every season instead of just getting through them.  With summer, that meant I was going to spend more time doing relaxing things that were still important.  I went on daycations to see friends that live a few hours away.  I sat out on my front porch with a glass of iced tea--just to listen to the sounds of the crickets.  I put on my spf 100 and went to the pool.  I made low calorie root beer floats.  In the fall, I made a point of actually going to the state fair (since it's so close and I'd NEVER been before--what was I thinking?).  I carved a pumpkin.  I made a full Thanksgiving dinner (complete with a 13 lb. turkey) just for myself (even though one other person did show up at the last minute).  Winter was harder because I'm one of those notorious WINTER HATERS, but even then I tried.  I mean, Christmas is easy.  It's my favorite season, my favorite day, my favorite favorite favorite.  But after Christmas, then comes that two and a half month period where I hate everything...except for hot chocolate (which I couldn't have because I'm dieting, but oh well).  But I did a lot of knitting (because that's a winter activity, yo).  I got a new coat which helped things a lot--it's always better to brave the cold when looking adorable and fashionable...and because of all the knitting, I also had a lot of cute scarves to wear.  Mainly, I kept telling myself that spring would be all the sweeter after I finally got through winter.  Then spring came and my heart rejoiced!  Life!  Flowers!  Butterflies!  Warmer (but not too warm) weather!  Allergies...well, okay, so spring isn't perfect either, but that's what Claritin is for.

So it's summer again (or so the temperatures outside tell me, even if the calendar still says it's spring).  And I'm learning (once again) that it's okay to relax.  I've had a lot of time off.  Some of it I've wasted.  Some of it I've spent LIVING.  Even if I'm not working or writing, I can still do something important--like go have lunch with a friend I haven't seen in a while or having a picnic just because I can.

I really think that one of the reasons God invented summer is to remind us to slow down and take time to relax.  I get in such a hurry sometimes to do do do, get done get done get done, be somewhere be somewhere be somewhere that I forget it's important to take time to breathe.  God did give us work, but He also gave us rest.  And sometimes rest means doing something different from the treadmill/hamster wheel routine.  Sometimes it just means taking the time to appreciate life.

So whatever else happens this summer, I plan on really living.