The Significance of One Leaf

 

When I was first inspired to write this blog I had a particular idea of what it would look like. I posed the question to many of you and began forming the paragraphs in my head.
    Here was my question:
    What is the greatest emotion/feeling and why?

My original inspiration has since been replaced. The emotion I was going to propose is the greatest feeling, now has a different face. Consider these words a progression. From joy to peace to love to pain to relief. And from relief to something greater. Something more important. More life-changing and exciting. A feeling that is staggering. And yours for the taking.

So our journey begins. To arrive at our final destination we will wind through your cities of joy, towns of peace, rivers of love, fields of gratitude, forests of pain, and beaches of relief. A road speckled with tears and grins, nods and laughter.

The cities of joy. People smiling in all and despite all circumstances. A feeling dependent not “on happenings” as mere happiness tends to be, but “on Christ.” Because joy is a choice, a trust in something greater than disappointment. Something that magnifies delight. A dancing choice based on a greater constant.

The towns of peace. “Joy at rest.” The knowing dips of their heads, an inner strength evident as they look past the mud in their streets, pointing out the infinite stars above. Instead of saying “I see that it’s good for me, so God must have sent it” their peace says,“God sent it, so it must be good for me.”

The rivers of love. Never lacking of people washing in their waters. The washing away of fear, hurt, mistakes. The exuberant waters accepting all who enter. The gentle current and patient trickles speaking kindly of its source. Splashes in the rivers are never short; the unceasing replenishment is an embracing haven.

The fields of gratitude. Seeds of humility and appreciation grown into stalks of optimism, grains of promise and sustenance, enriching those who hunger.

The forests of pain. Splintered wood and broken twigs. The place where the lost can be found. “In the same way pleasure draws us, pain pushes us.” Beneath the shade of the trees, suffering drives us to the other side.

Where we find beaches of relief. We bask in the alleviation of stress, worry, pain, and busyness. The sun dries the tears. We are known and remembered. And this, my friends, is where I thought the greatest feeling could be found. Relief. The lump behind your ear is not cancerous. You finding the social security card that had been absent from it’s usual spot. (Speaking from experience.) The letter in the mail that says- Congratulations, you passed your last CPA exam. A long hard workout and you finish the last rep, couch and chocolate milk in sight. Relief- the feeling that frees your body, mind, or soul from despair, pressure, and anxiety. The feeling of delivery when you thought you couldn’t go one more day, one more rep, one more failure. Deliverance, relief, is part of God’s design in this broken world. Convinced yet?

But there’s more! So much more! Ted Dekker writes, “What elevates our emotions, and what dashes them to the ground? What makes us jump for joy, and what sends us into a pit of deep discouragement? The answers are surprisingly simple: Hope. And hopelessness.” This is so true. Why do we have joy, peace, love, gratitude, relief? We have hope for reconciliation, hope for deliverance, hope that we can have relationship, future. Hope that we are known, recognized, and cared for by something, no, Someone far greater than ourselves.

When Noah was aching for the ark to hit land, a dove brought him an olive leaf. A universal sign of hope. As Max Lucado describes it, “Noah went up the ladder with questions, but came down with confidence.” I don’t know about you guys, but hope feels pretty good to me. In a world full of doubt, skepticism, relevance, and brokenness, even a blink of confidence is significant. And we’re talking about more than a blink.

People have hope for good weather. Hope for promotions, family, impact. But too easily forgotten is the ultimate hope that gives purpose and meaning to anything and everything else. Hope to last an eternity. Hope for eternity. Heaven. A hope for heaven that has gotten lost in the ‘pleasures’ of this world. A hope I have too often replaced with trivial joys and anxieties of this life.

Ted Dekker’s book ‘The Slumber of Christianity’ challenged me in unexpected ways. Ways I don’t have space to flesh out in this post. (Keep an eye out in the future!) But it has reinforced and reminded me why Christians need to wake up to this great feeling, a significance to me and hopefully to you. Love and peace and joy are all great feelings. But they are worth nothing if they aren’t riding on the coattails of eternity’s hope. The present and this world are fleeting. But hope for heaven is not diminished by tomorrow.

Ted Dekker expounds on this staggering promise using an image of a large and mysterious machine. Found in an isolated barn by settlers who don’t know how to turn it on, they develop ways of using different parts of the contraption to improve their settlement. But then one day one of them finds a small pearl that appears to fit into part of the machine they hadn’t been able to make functional yet. Placing the small pearl in that compartment turns the machine on and the people are astounded by the machine rousing and operating as it was intended to.

Dekker likens this machine to our lives here on earth: “No matter how man will find pleasure within its gears and contrive usefulness from its gadgets, the machine of life is destined to lie in darkness unless fueled by the pearl of great hope. But powered by that fuel, the great machine will awaken with a thunder and fill the heart with an inexhaustible awe. Happy is the man who finds this pearl of great price.”

Hope and hopelessness. Life to its fullest, or deadened despair.

Romans 5 says, “We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us.”

Hope does not disappoint! All the other emotions can disappoint us- these emotions as we portray or exude them in our flawed human ways. Love, joy, peace, gratitude, relief. They aren’t always like we want or expect. But hope. Hope does not disappoint. Hope’s authentication is dependent on the truthfulness of it’s object. Hope’s object- heaven and eternity with the Lord- is a truth you can have 100% confidence in.

Paul says in Colossians- “We have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love you have for all God’s people, the faith and love that spring from the hope stored up for you in heaven and about which you have already heard in the true message of the gospel that has come to you.”

It excites me to write this, not because I’m revealing a hidden truth to you. But because we already share in this hope together. If hope is the greatest feeling we can have, and faith and love spring from it, we can share the hope through loving others and sharing our faith. A challenge I am far from succeeding in and am wrestling with to discover what exactly that looks like in my life. But maybe just living like I have hope and confidence for eternity would be a great start.

Maybe living like we have hope will be contagious. And who wouldn’t want to feel that hope? True, eternal hope. A hope that doesn’t disappoint.

The Greatest of These

     I wait. I sit. I stand. I pace. It’s a race, against time, against my illusion of falling short. I can’t wait any longer. You do what I want, when I want, how I want. Never soon enough. Never good enough. Stop wasting my time. It’s mine, not yours. Still pacing. If it’s not now it must not be right. Have to fight the wait or I might burst. Urgent. And then you say that. Do that. Like this. Have that. No way. I can’t approve. Is that what moves you? I turn away. A pace of frustration. Hard heart of condemnation. Hands in my pockets, key to my eyes, shut, turned, and locked it. Won’t see you right now. No time to crouch down and examine the grounds you walk on or offer a shoe made of a better compound. It just can’t be me.
      But It says no, you have it all wrong. When you have to wait long, isn’t it worth it to hear the end of the song? The crescendo of completion, the final resolution, the awaited transformation. How much better, It coaxes, when you take off your watch, time is lost and your brother is found. Not abandoned or condemned. Not rejected or shed. Not wasted but drowned in It. Found worth the extra minute. With It I can sit again and wait. With It I have words that open, tend, offer, ease. I can see what is there and do what needs to be done. No longer pace, but smile on my face because it’s not falling short- It is a force that changes the game, changes the need, changes the end, and changes me.

      I want. You have it. I don’t. And what’s more, I deserve it. I’m entitled, qualified, justified. It was handed to you. Inheritance. Talent. Personality. Luck. What a waste. Squandered. Distaste. But I work hard, I want what I earned. What I should have, could have earned. Used. Correctly. Don’t you see me? Haven’t you realized my worth, my status, my lifestyle, my intelligence, confidence, obedience, and innocence? I’m at the top, well at least over you. What I could do with what you have, what you feel, what you’ll be. The world would be different. Brighter. And at the center would be me. Atop piles of respect, appreciation, accreditation, admiration. Because let’s face it. You’re full of mistakes, heartaches, you make your own choices and choose the wrong the paths. You may have a brain. A friend. An extra dollar. A taste of success. But you don’t have a future. Not like me. If only I were free to take it.
      Not It. Wouldn’t take it if I had It. The right It. The It that applauds from the sideline. The It that cheers what isn’t mine. When you're atop of the mounds, It is nowhere to be found. But when you're on the ground It might stick around. If you use It to see the good in others. The gifts of others. The grieves of others. Because you’re not who you say you are. And haven’t I gotten to where I am now because of It? It builds up and doesn’t tear down. It gives high fives instead of letting them drown. It shows me my scars so I can see theirs. Stop blinding your eyes, It beckons, and see the image of unity, diversity, commonality, and necessity. You have it, I don’t, but with It, I am still thankful for you.


      I watch. Fall after fall. And I don’t care. He probably deserved it. The next time I’ll encourage it. Maybe I’ll push him myself. Someone has to do it. Prove it. Reveal it. Disguise it. Avoid it. Whatever it takes. Besides, if it makes me better, why not? If it makes me mightier, why not? If it moves me up, why not? No rules. A school of thought where others falling and failing and crashing and burning are no longer tragedies, calamities, absurdities, or worries. Now they are trophies. A token to me- I’ve stumbled but don’t drop, I trip but I stop before hitting the ground, before the ultimate plop. Or maybe I fall, but it no longer matters. Mischievous, I flatter myself with rationalization, dramatization. Desensitized. Unresponsive. I used to push, but now I pull. From the inside. Because who cares? There are worse things in life than to fall. Worse things. I’m not the worst. I’ve fallen- no longer the best, but as long as I’m higher than one of the rest, I can’t be in trouble. Of It I can still profess.
      Or can I? Because It wouldn’t push and It certainly wouldn’t pull. Not when it comes to bridges, oceans, and holes. The real triumph in life isn’t the ladder. It isn’t the tower. It isn’t the power. The real triumph in life is when It multiplies, without penalizing or jeopardizing. A conquest, It embarks on, to promote integrity, veracity, authenticity, and benign justice. It celebrates something worthwhile, profitable, and freeing. The bondage of falling is broken by It. The lies of failing can’t endure It. The wounds of breaking are soothed by It. The defense of inability is inferior to it. Fall after fall, and because of It, I care. I care a lot.


      No other armor is better than It. Swords thrust. Bullets ravage. Armies approach. Rains pound. Failures threaten. Desires linger. Desolation hovers. Lies caress. But It overcomes. But It never falters, dissipates, weakens, cracks, runs, or hides. The past is pacified by It. The present is guided by It. The future is enlivened by It. No other armor can protect such a frail body. No other armor can retain such a wayward spirit. No other armor can sustain such a ravenous heart. Metal corrodes, greenery wilts, word expires. And It isn’t even done yet. Even in this capacity It has yet to be perfected. This extravagant armor is simply a fierce cross-section of what I wait for.

I have confidence because of It. I have conviction for the rest of It. I am content in the midst of It.

And It is Love.

I'm Date Mike, Nice to Meet Me.

Three years ago, on February 2nd, Mike and I started dating. In honor of this I have compiled a top ten list of date memories slash awesome things Mike did for me during those sweet seven months. High five for love.

1. Mike taught me how to play tennis. We actually started doing this before we started dating. Every Tuesday we would go to Chapel and then he would give me a tennis lesson, followed by lunch in the caf. Mike is a very, very patient man. And a good teacher- my skills have shown visible improvement. Tennis has played a large part in our relationship- we officially began dating after one of those tennis lessons, during a more interesting conversation in the caf. A well-planned proposal 7 months later on the tennis court and we were engaged.

2. Mike introduced me to the Simpsons. The Simpsons are one of the more dysfunctional families I’ve ever encountered, however, the satire makes me chuckle. We watched many Simpsons episodes in the Wild.

3. Mike wrote and sang me a song. Mike has an amazing voice. I got the privilege of being the inspiration to a song he wrote (actually before we dated, but I didn’t know that) for me and sang to me in the kitchen of the Wild (aka Wildnerness Mission House, aka his living quarters). He also sang to me at our wedding. Now I get to hear him sing all the time!

4. Mike stayed up late to be with me, even though he was exhausted from baseball and classes. Mike started college in accounting but switched to pre-med. Therefore he had a billion hours of labs to get in plus his regular classes. PLUS he was in baseball that often had practices from 9-12 at night. His days were exhausting, but instead of going to a much-deserved and needed sleep, he would stop by Fern and spend some time with me. He always found time to fit me in his schedule and it meant a lot because I knew how much he had going on.

5. Mike took me star gazing at the golf course. It was very peaceful, well until the police came and shone a light around looking for us. Good thing we set up shop a good distance from our vehicle. No harm, no foul!

6. Mike smiled at me a lot. If you know Mike, you know he is a very friendly guy who always has a smile for anyone. And no offense to you guys, but he has a different smile especially for me. I guess you could say I’m his favorite person. Whenever I would walk by or come up to him he always smiled that special smile and it made me feel so happy and loved.

7. Mike wrote me nice notes. He always makes me laugh. Sometimes his notes would be serious- all that mushy stuff some haters make fun of- which for the record, when it’s directed at you by the man of your dreams, it is the favorite part of your day. And sometimes they wouldn’t make much sense and were usually signed by an alias like Big Mike From the Hood. We wrote letters back and forth to each other the summer we had to be apart, and I’m glad we did because now I have a whole archive of ‘sweet nothings’ I can read at my leisure.

8. Mike stuck around after my rampages. I don’t get mad very easily, but if I do- I’m MAD. Mike saw this firsthand. We had a co-ed intramural volleyball team together (Yeah Walter!!) that was very good. And no I did not date him so I could have a 6’7’’ rock star on my volleyball team. But it sure helped. However, I took each game very seriously and knew we could be the champions, so when we didn’t win every single game (Note: we did make it to the championship both years), I didn’t take it very well. One might call it rage. I just call it uncontrollable disappointment. Mike got to witness this rage. One particular time I needed to release some frustration so we went outside and I chucked rocks at the cement. A week later he pitched to me in the batting cage- a more constructive form of release I suppose. Which leads me to my next point...

9. Mike helped me be less reckless. Clearly I wasn’t as calm as a normal person should be. I drove too fast. I ran into things (not via my vehicle, just my body). I didn’t sleep much. Mike helped me become more normal and safe. After all, what’s the point of being married if I do something stupid and kill myself before we can do awesome things- kinda selfish. But don’t worry, it was an exchange of sorts. I helped him become MORE reckless. So now we are two balanced people who won’t go so far as to endanger lives, but will go so far as to appear ‘foolish’ or ‘immature’ or ‘the most funnest people you’ll ever meet.’ Take your pick.

10. Finally, the highlight of our dating experience. He proposed. The promise of forever! As I mentioned earlier, he proposed on the tennis court with an awesome little flip book he drew himself. (I believe there is still the video of it somewhere on my facebook page if you are interested.) September 16, 2010- I’ve never smiled so much in my entire life. Well. Except our actual wedding day.

Michael Shields, I'm so glad I met you :)

Tribute

This is a tribute to you, Arizona. To a state that welcomed Mike and me with cacti, sunshine, mountains, adventure, friends, and a place to call home. To a place with an ostrich festival on my birthday, though the ostrich burgers seemed a bit inhumane. To the Arizona Diamondbacks who gave me my first bobblehead. I shall proudly display it on any desk I may work at.

To you, Arizona, for teaching us the joys and humor in birdwatching. For your beloved Camelback Mountain for bestowing upon me the value of hydration and/or air conditioning during 120 degree summer days, but also that the view is worth the climb. For your rolling northeasterly forests and their quiet escape on our first anniversary. For your Grand Canyon- blowing my mind and dominating my feet.

To you, Arizona, for having friends for us- shout out to First5- you know who you are! For friends who have rock band, who can find lava tunnels, who eat froyo, who watch Jimmy Fallon, and who love to laugh. Friends who throw dimes, grill meat, hike, and play Mario. Friends who come visit us in Iowa (hint, hint).

 This is a tribute to the Arizona Coyotes (and Minnesota Wild) for showing me what a hockey game looks like, fights and all. To the 101 for showing me how not to participate in rush hour. To In ‘N Out for my first hamburger in a long time (and most likely for another half decade). To your many baseball fields for hosting spring training games. To your proximity to San Diego in all its beachness.

To you, Arizona, for giving us a reason to drive over 1500 miles last New Year’s with whatever we could stuff in a van. A tribute for the mattress we tied to the roof of our vehicle, to the huge mirror that doubled as a door, and to the pool with a conveniently located TV. For having the funnest Bingo hall ever. For making me tan and more agreeable to mornings. For your many mini golf courses. And for being a place that people wanted to come see us.

A tribute to the perfect place to grow a marriage. A perfect place to figure out what the heck ‘full-time job’ means. A perfect place to have an adventure and learn what life is all about.
   
Arizona and all you stand for, we only had you for a short time, but you hold a very special place in our hearts. We shall return to you someday for a visit and another taste of friendly sunshine.

Cloudy Days

Arizona has a couple clouds a month. Every once in awhile one may leak a bit of precipitation (that may or may not ‘flood’ half the state). I guess in other words- Arizona doesn’t have clouds. Every single day is a glaringly blue sky. Mike and I only lived there ten months but it didn’t take long for us to yearn for clouds. Any cloud. I would even have to resort to finding people’s pictures on Facebook of the clouds back home to get a fix.

This is a groundbreaking statement. If you know me, you know that I love the sun. I hate being cold and I could be in the sun all day. Yet in Arizona I felt like a traitor to myself because I was wishing for a cloudy day. It was a selfish wish-  I wasn’t even just wishing for the sake of Mike’s fair (and/or red) skin. I legitimately was tired of the same old sunny blue sky.

We are a people of variety aren’t we? We get tired of the same old things, as much as we praise routine and normalcy, we still wish we could be unique, have metamorphosis. Is it possible to have too much of a good thing? Red Stripe claims there is. Well I feel like it’s agreed upon that too much of a good thing leads to complacency. You don’t appreciate the sun as much when you get it every day. Clouds promote the sunny days. (Or vice versa if you’re like Mike and clouds are your sun).

I am thankful for the cloudy days in my life. They make me realize my need for the sun. Clouds can take away the glare that often redirects my attention or causes me to look away. Cloudy days bring a washing of rain. A washing away of pride and selfish distraction. The combination of cloudy days and sunshine bring streaks of colorful light- signs of promise and hope. Of faithfulness and divine power.

Downhere recently wrote a song called 'Thank You for the Heartbreak'. I think it touches on this  principle. Here is a snippet:

Thank You for the pain
Thank You for the sadness
On the gloomy days of rain

Thank You that the hard times
Have a reason and rhyme
Thank You that the healing makes the beauty shine
Thank You for the heartbreak

Similarly, I believe A.W. Tozer sheds light on how God uses ‘bad’ for good: “It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply.’ God is made great in our weakness. We find we need him and listen to him most when we are on our knees, broken. And that is when he speaks to our hearts and lifts us up.

I need cloudy days in my life because if I didn’t, I would never be grateful for the sun.

Don't be an Idiot

Michael Scott: “What is the most inspiring thing I’ve ever said to you?"
Dwight Schrute: “Don’t be an idiot. Changed my life.” [To camera] “Whenever I’m about to do something I think- ‘Would an idiot do that?’ And if they would, I do not do that thing.”

More people should take this advice. I’ve become appalled at many of the things I’ve come across in society. Here is a shortened list of what I have deemed my “List of Stupid People”:

• People who play Taserball (Yes. It’s a real thing.)
• People who go on Judge Judy thinking they will look smarter for it
• People who do things that warrant a trip to Judge Judy in the first place
• People who change their name to World Peace (What happens when he dies? All hope is lost? I don’t think he thought this one through…)
• People who think it’s a good idea to ski off a snowboarding ramp on their second time ever on skiis (This may or may not have been me.)
• Girls who wear shirts or hold signs that say ‘Free Hugs’
• People who think it’s okay for their dog to take and eat a tennis ball that is sitting right outside a tennis court where people are currently playing tennis
• People who think cannonballing into a solid ice pool is somehow a good idea
• People who spend hundreds of dollars a month for cigarettes and alcohol (not illegal) yet claim they can’t afford to have car insurance (illegal)
• People who try to open exterior doors with small metal doorknobs in the winter with their mouths (this may or may not have also been me)

As much as those inspiring words were meant to be a joke, I actually see quite a bit of value in them. These words really could change lives. Imagine how many foolish acts could be avoided if we just used our heads a little bit more profitably. Asking ourselves if idiots would do such things. I can honestly say I’ve used this a number of times. It’s not everyday that either Michael or Dwight has good ideas, but let the records show- it has happened. Don’t be idiots.

I have recently discovered I could add another to my list of stupid people. Something that I unfortunately have to own as a prominent description of myself lately: People who say they know God but don’t trust him because they somehow have a better idea about how life works.

Mike and I were talking about this the other night. There are times where we feel close to God and times where we don’t. There are times when we trust God and times when we don’t. On this particular night I was feeling close to God but was struggling with trust. Mike was feeling distant from God but clinging to trust. I asked- How can you trust someone you aren’t close to? His answer opened my eyes to my shortcoming: “Because I know him.”

Four words that hold a very deep meaning. Just the fact that the Creator of the universe and Almighty God allows us to know him is monumental in itself, but knowing the character and nature of that personal God is an immense realization. God is a loving, powerful, sovereign being who has our best interests in his plans. And he is faithful. Oh how he’s faithful. Mike continued: “He has been faithful to me my whole life. When has he ever given me a reason to doubt him?” And that is so true.

Wayne Grudem describes this ability to trust in his Bible Doctrine book: ‘The more we come to know a person, and the more we see in that a person a pattern of life that warrants trust, the more we find ourselves able to place trust in him to do what he promises, or to act in ways on which we can rely.’

If I am going to claim to be close to him or to know him- I can’t NOT trust him. That would be a blatant opposition to the character I would profess to know. I would be stupid to think somehow I’m better off trusting myself. I mean I’ve been known to have a good idea or two, but when it comes to my life’s direction as a whole- what better place to entrust that than the all-knowing Creator of the universe who loves me and has a specific purpose for me.

Right now, my life’s circumstances don’t make it easy for me to trust. There are a lot of uncertainties that seem impossible to ignore. I’ve grown impatient, worried, helpless, and at times hopeless. But maybe God’s just trying to say- ‘You said you know me. Prove it. Don’t be an idiot.’ Well I don’t know if God would say the idiot part, but he definitely would have reason to.

I recently read Max Lucado’s book- Fearless. A lot of that book could be applied to this entry. The root of distrust is fear. Lucado says, ‘Fear corrodes our confidence in God’s goodness. We begin to wonder if love lives in heaven… And it turns us into control freaks… Fear creates a form of spiritual amnesia. It dulls our miracle memory. It makes us forget what Jesus has done and how good God is.’ My confidence in God’s provision and love has been eclipsed by an irrational fear. It has distorted my memory of who God is and his purpose for my life.

J.I. Packer in his book- Knowing God talks about wisdom and how wisdom doesn’t mean we get to know why God does what he does. Wisdom doesn’t mean we get to know what happens next. Rather “God’s work of giving wisdom is… restoring and perfecting the relationship between himself and men… It is not a sharing of all his knowledge, but a disposition to confess that he is wise, and to cleave to him and live for him in the light of his word through thick and thin.”

Because I believe in God’s infinite and singular wisdom, the next logical step is to rest there. Trust there. Leave fear outside. Leave my own ‘control freak’ ideas outside. They are no longer needed.

Psalm 73:25 says, “Whom have I in heaven but thee? And there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee… God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever.”

Finally a short excerpt from Lucado’s book, a hymn written by Bradford Torrey:

Not so in haste, my heart!
Have faith in God, and wait;
Although He linger long,
He never comes too late.

He never comes too late;
He knoweth what is best;
Vex not thyself in vain;
Until He cometh rest.

Until He cometh, rest,
Nor grudge the hours that roll;
The feet that wait for God
Are soonest at the goal.

Are soonest at the goal
That is not gained with speed;
Then hold thee still, my heart,
For I shall wait His lead.

So yes, the Office boys have given noteworthy advice that can be applied to general life choices (taserball cough cough) and spiritual life perspectives. I think it appropriate, then, to make my 2013 New Year’s Resolution: I’m not going to be an idiot.

Top Ten

I have decided to periodically ask Mike to give me a title for a list and I would blog it (see my usage of the word ‘blog’ as a verb- yup, I’m the real deal). This time Mike gave me the list: Top Ten Christmas Memories. Because I don’t really do favorites and rarely ever stay within my allotted ‘length constraints’ I decided to talk about my memories within ten categories. It’s not cheating, it’s being clever. I know it’s a longer post, so if you don’t care about my life, I guess you can quit reading. Here’s to Christmas and memories!

    1. Decorations:
            My signature Christmas decoration growing up was chains of red and green paper links draped everywhere. It was a waste of staples but glue was messy and seldom worked. Besides, what decoration screams Christmas more than RED and GREEN paper?! Okay, so my decorating skills were lacking the ‘magic’ that true Christmas decorations exude. I think my Nana Corlew wins the Christmas decoration award hands down. Her collection of village houses and accessories were magic. Her display of the village on a bed of decorative snow, lights in the tiny windows, and a reflective ice pond nearby with skaters, was mesmerizing. My siblings and I would always pick out who lived in which house and worked in which shop. Alongside her magical Christmas village were her magical Santa and Mrs. Claus props. Nana had a music box decoration that had Mrs. Claus standing atop it holding a tray of cookies and a candle. When you flipped the switch on music would play and the candle would light up. Nana would have Nathan ‘blow the candle out’ and she would switch it off. Nathan was also intrigued by her Santa figurine. It was a small Santa sitting on a stool whose feet would move up and down toward a small basin. Santa would say “Ohhh, my feet” over and over again. Nathan would sit by Santa and make sure his feet always made it in the basin. Christmas came alive with Nana’s decorations.

    2. Games:
            When the Corlews and Shields families celebrate Christmas (or really spend any time with each other at all), games are played. And games are played. And games are played.  It’s one of my favorite things about Mike’s and my families. Growing up my parents would buy a new game each Christmas for our family to play. We’ve played our share of Taboo, Outburst, Beyond Balderdash, Pictionary, Wicked Word, and 500 (the card game not the football game, let’s be real). We might have 3 tables of 500 going. One of the first things that Rebecca, Mike, and Ryan learned when they started dating us Corlews was that they would need to be able to play 500. And learn they did. It wouldn’t be Christmas without 500. However, Nathan and I couldn’t play 500 when we were younger. To us ‘trump’ was just an abbreviation for a trumpet and the ‘kitty’ was named Patches. Instead we made up our own Christmas game. It was called NFL (Nativity Football League). Very simple to play. You give each character of the Nativity scene a point value- Jesus of course was the highest. Then with a paper football you kick it toward the Nativity knocking down what people you could and award points accordingly. It occupied us many a 500 game.

    3. Snow:
            Christmas without snow is like Christmas in Arizona. (Can I get an Amen!) We sure loved our time in Arizona, but I don’t know how kids do Christmas there without snow forts, sledding, and snowball fights. The Corlew kids were masters of the snow forts. Lucky for us we lived close to “The Hill” which was the pile of snow the plows created at the high school from plowing all the city streets. We spent many hours digging and maneuvering snow to create ‘intricate’ snow tunnels and caves. Or ramps for our sleds. If we wanted to keep the fun closer to home we would make piles of snow and jump into them either from our old van that had a ladder on the back (would not recommend this) or from our front trees. A couple years ago I had my tonsils out and couldn’t be outside for very long because of the cold. It was better this way though because I got to just watch Barkley try to walk through the 20 inches of snow, Joel pummel Abby into the snowbanks, and my parents shovel the driveway.

    4. Food:
            I don’t know about your family Christmases, but at the Corlew house there were at least 20 containers of Christmas goodies on the porch. I don’t really have a favorite Christmas cookie (go figure) but I do remember making sugar cookies with my mom. We would take turns pressing the cookie cutters into the dough. Then we would wait patiently (or not patiently) for my mom to gather the scraps and re-roll them into a smooth, floury surface. Once they baked we could decorate them with sprinkles and hot tamales. I always put hot tamales on, even though I didn’t like eating them. I guess my snowman needed buttons and my gingerbread men needed eyes. Functionality over taste. Currently I get excited about Christmas food because it means my mom makes her awesome Cheeseball.

    5. Candles:
            Christmas and candles have significance for me in two memories.
                      1. Advent. We would do advent candles as a family where we would light the appropriate number of candles, Dad would read Scripture, and then each of us kids would get to blow out the candles. This meant the candles actually all got lit every time (times 4) so we could all get a chance to blow them out.
                     b. Candlelit Christmas Eve service. It was tradition to end the Christmas Eve service by singing Silent Night with candles. The ones with the paper circle that was supposed to catch all the wax but never did. One of my first times holding the candle, I burned my hand by the wax and felt ashamed I had to blow my candle out early. Ever since then I am still paranoid about getting wax on my hand on Christmas Eve.

    6. Gifts:
           One of my most memorable Christmas gifts was my American Girl doll. Abby and I both got one. My doll was named Samantha and her birthday was the same as mine! (Who knew?) We brought our dolls everywhere. I used to give Samantha rides on my shoulders like my dad would do with me. The only downside was that each doll had a couple strings near the neck that I was told made the doll fall apart. Needless to say, I spent my childhood life in constant fear that I would decapitate Samantha by accidentally pulling the strings.

    7. Music:
             Christmas meant the Christmas piano books would come out. The Simplicity Saxophone CD would play. Avalon and Steven Curtis Chapman Christmas tunes got their stereo time. Our church Christmas service's usual prelude was by children playing a piano song or two. I played plenty of Christmas carols over the years. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen is a carol that will forever be one of Abby and my favorites, or as we used to call it ‘Comfort and Joy!’ Christmas was the best time of year because we could ask my dad to sing this song to us before bed. Complete with Russian can-can like dance moves. Now that I think about it, I hope we didn’t contribute to his back problems with this...

    8. Books:
            Abby and I were always excited to bring out the Christmas books. They were the same ones every year but we never got tired of them. The one where all these animals live in the trunk of the tree and they have to decorate it so that Santa will know they were there. The one where a family in an apartment building gets a Christmas tree that keeps growing. So tall their upstairs neighbors, 2 and 3 floors up, agree to cut holes in their floors so the tree can keep growing. (Pretty practical). The one where Little Critter wraps himself up as a present to his mom. All the ones where some sort of animal or person has to save Christmas. And one of my favorites- Alabaster’s Song. Max Lucado’s story about an angel with a lisp who tells the little boy about the first Christmas.

    9. No School!:
            This is my first Christmas in the ‘real world’ where school no longer exists to offer you the joys of a few carefree weeks. From now on we’ll have responsibilities. Bleh. Oh to be a kid again when sleeping in is expected and all you do all day over Christmas break is play and eat and make messes and complain about being bored. I guess the time has come for me to figure out how to do Christmas as an adult.

    10. King:
              Last year Mike sang a song for the church offertory- ‘How Many Kings’ by Downhere. And this is probably one of my most memorable Christmas experiences. At this time my Aunt Ila was in her last days at the hospital. My last time with her was when my family visited her in the hospital to sing her Christmas carols. Aunt Ila didn’t like to miss out on anything, so it was very special to share some Christmas music with her. After the carols, Mike had brought his guitar and shared his song with her. It was very moving to see Aunt Ila close her eyes as Mike sang of a ‘King who stepped down from his throne to romance a world that had torn all apart’. Jesus was the Savior we had waited for. And I know Aunt Ila knew that she was about to be where she’d been waiting for- in Heaven with that very King. God came for us in a manger on Christmas. And last Christmas he came for Ila in a very real way. I know this Christmas will remind me of Aunt Ila and how Christmas is a story of eternity.