New Year's Eve.

What are you doing New Year's Eve? 

Me? Well, I'll be headed into Central to watch the fireworks with my brother (he's visiting!), so I'm hoping they'll be good as last year's...which were absolutely incredible.

Happy last day of 2012.

Simply having a wonderful Christmastime.

 

I spent Christmas up north in Manchester, with my sweet friend Hannah. It was lovely and festive and full of warmth and cheer (despite the grim weather). 

The cherry on top was tuning into Christmas with my family in New Mexico.

 Skype is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

A stick, a carrot & string.

I'm a big fan of Christmas songs (provided it's after Thanksgiving and before New Year's). My grandmother's favorite was Bing Crosby's White Christmas, so that one holds a special place in my heart. But this year, the album I've had on repeat is courtesy of Dave Barnes, though there are a few other standouts, like this one from Matt Wertz, and this one from Sara Bareilles, and this one, which I'd never heard of till I moved to London, but now I absolutely adore.

However, there's another song that I'm especially fond of. It's not the traditional Christmas song. In fact, it doesn't sound very Christmassy at all. But the lyrics are absolutely wonderful.

Have a listen (lyrics below):



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The horse's hay beneath his head
Our Lord was born to a manger bed
That all whose wells run dry
Could drink of his supply.

To keep him warm, the sheep drew near,
So grateful for His coming here.
You come with news of grace;
Come to take my place.

The donkey whispered in his ear,
"Child, in 30-some-odd years,
You'll ride someone who looks like me
(Untriumphantly)."

The cardinals warbled a joyful song,
"He'll make right what man made wrong -
Bringing low the hills,
That the valleys might be filled."

Then "child", asked the birds ,
Well, aren't they lovely words we sing?"
The tiny baby laid there
without saying anything.

At a distance stood a mangy goat
With crooked teeth and a matted coat;
Weary eyes and worn
Whipped and twisted horns.

Thinking, "Maybe I'll make friends someday
with the cows and the hens and the rambouillet,
But for now, I'll keep away
I've got nothing smart to say."

There's a sign on the barn in the cabbage town:
"When the rain picks up and the sun goes down
Sinners, come inside;
With no money, come and buy.
No clever talk, nor a gift to bring
Requires our lowly, lovely king.
Come you empty handed, you don't need anything."

And the night was cool and clear as glass
With the sneaking snake in the garden grass,
Deep cried out to deep,
The disciples fast asleep.

And the snake perked up when he heard You ask,
"If you're willing that this cup might pass,
We could find our way back home
maybe start a family all our own."

"But does not the Father guide the Son?
Not my will, but Yours be done.
What else here to do?
What else me, but You?"

And the snake who'd held the world,
A stick, a carrot and a string
Was crushed beneath the foot
Of your not wanting anything.

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I especially like the "come you, empty handed" bit, because that's what Christmas is all about, isn't it? Celebrating the fact that the world has received the ultimate gift. One that we don't have to work for. One that we couldn't earn, no matter how hard we tried. "For unto us a child is born; unto us, a son is given..." 
   

It's the Gospel, and it's beautiful.

Merry Christmas.

"Sorry."

I think the most commonly used word in the UK is the word "sorry." (Okay, so this might not necessarily be the case for London crowds, especially when you're using the Tube during peak hours, but whenever you get a British person one-on-one, it pretty much holds true.)

People say it all the time. Someone bumps into you? Sorry. You bump into them? They still say sorry. The culture is just terribly apologetic. People are generally very concerned with being polite. But you also occasionally get the feeling it's all very passive aggressive, and perhaps just for keeping up appearances -- and that because they're all trying so very hard to be polite, they are going to get particularly bothered if you're not. It's like the British have perfected this mentality of worrying about doing the right thing not because it's right, but because you're worried you'll be judged if you don't. So when I stumbled upon British Problems, I couldn't help but laugh.

Here are a few of my favorites:

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(image c/o buzzfeed)

I absent-mindedly walked into the kebab shop instead of the cafe next door. I couldn't very well admit my mistake and just walk out again, so I ended up having a kebab for lunch.

I feel that in the interests of british neighbourly spirit I should get to know my neighbours. But now that we've been living in our house 4 years it would be too weird if I was to suddenly pop round and introduce myself.

My Chilean friends actually take food when I offer it to them.

I thanked a woman for letting me use the self-checkout ahead of her but I was already ahead of her in the queue.

After spending 3 hours waiting in A&E yesterday to have my hand X-rayed over a suspected fracture, I apologised for wasting the nurse's time when it was only a major soft tissue tear. She said it was ok but I could tell she despised me.

I couldn't order the pastry that I wanted this morning as there was only one left and I didn't want to create any awkwardness with the customers behind me in case they wanted it.

I'm simultaneously relieved and offended when no one sits next to me on the bus.

At work, I'm constantly offered cups of tea or coffee or biscuits; I feel guilty for turning the offers down, but I don't want to seem greedy by taking the offers up.

I said 'thank you' as a warden handed me a parking ticket.

A man in the supermarket was browsing the food I wanted to browse, so I had to pretend to look at things I didn't even want until he left.

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And it's here that I should probably admit that this is one area where I feel at home. At least I'm not the only one standing awkwardly behind the old lady in the middle of the aisle who didn't hear me when I said 'sorry.' We'll all just wait patiently (and only slightly passive aggressively) together until she shuffles out of the way. 

Thanks for making me feel like I belong, England.

  

Frozen.

Apparently, there are a lot of spiders near my bus stop. I wasn't really aware of this until this morning, when it was so cold that their webs froze, and all of the sudden their presence was very noticeable. The webs that weren't perfectly formed (more like strands strewn all over the place) made it look like the bushes were covered in white silly string. 

Weird.

Anyway, I realized something as I was standing there shivering in the cold, looking at this frozen web: I'm gonna need to buy some thicker socks. 

Happy winter!

 

Don't lose your sense of wonder.

“I need wonder. I know that death is coming. I smell it in the wind, read it in the paper, watch it on television, and see it on the faces of the old. I need wonder to explain what is going to happen to me, what is going to happen to us when this thing is done, when our shift is over and our kids' kids are still on the earth listening to their crazy rap music. I need something mysterious to happen after I die. I need to be somewhere else after I die, somewhere with God, somewhere that wouldn't make any sense if it were explained to me right now. At the end of the day, when I am lying in bed and I know the chances of any of our theology being exactly right are a million to one, I need to know that God has things figured out, that if my math is wrong we are still going to be okay. And wonder is that feeling we get when we let go of our silly answers, our mapped out rules that we want God to follow. I don't think there is any better worship than wonder.”  -Don Miller

  

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The only time I ever wear a watch is when I go running. I keep the timer going because I can be a tad competitive, and I like to see if I can beat my previous time. When I go running, I don’t like to stop. But about two summers ago, I started stopping.

I was living in a small town in the Midwest. Just around the corner from my house were these wide open fields – mostly farmland, but occasionally grown over and untouched. I’d go for runs down that way in the evenings, especially during the summer, when it was still light well past 8pm. There was one stretch of road bordered by these giant flowering trees, and you could smell the flowers as you ran past. Fireflies frequented the area, and around the bend, you could pretty much guarantee you’d see deer – I once saw around 20 in one evening – along with the occasional family of skunks.

I always stopped for these things. I’d pause my timer and then try to catch a firefly or laugh at the baby skunks or pick a dandelion to wish on. I’m sure I looked silly, childish even, especially when I was chasing after those fireflies. But I didn’t mind.

I’ll gladly cross the street to walk in the sunshine. I’ll go out of my way to step on a crunchy looking leaf. Whenever I go outside at night, the first thing I’ll do is look up.

I don’t know what life’s like for you, but it seems to be going very quickly for me (how is it December already?), and it doesn’t look like it will be slowing down anytime soon. But I don’t care how rushed or busy or pressed for time I am, if I see a sunrise like the one I saw this morning, I’m going to stop. Because one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received is this: “Don’t lose your sense of wonder.”

And I don’t intend to.