I need a bigger pocket.

"We need enormous pockets, pockets big enough for our families, & friends, & even the people who aren't on our lists, people we've never met but still want to protect. We need pockets for boroughs & for cities, a pocket that could hold the universe." [Extremely Close and Incredibly Loud]

Reflections on the Light of Christmas: in January.

It's January now. The thrill of winter has long since worn off. I love the month of December. There are Christmas movies being played, parades, festivals, advent, my birthday, etc. All of that causes me to feel so much joy and excitement. Now I start to feel the call of the beach with it's waves, the desire to take my bike for a ride through Greensboro's shaded streets, to sit in the yard just soaking up the sunshine and yet I find that I cannot participate in any of these activities because it is so cold. A friend once said, "Since it got cold I haven't seen you take your coat off or smile." This is an accurate way to describe my relationship with winter.

The other night I finally went to snap a picture of the sweet Moravian church across the street from us. It was decorated so beautifully for Christmas and all of December, I had thought to myself that I should take a picture of it. Fortunately, I took a picture when I did because the next day the decorations were gone.

I wanted to remember how the light looked shining in the darkness. And suddenly I realized that when Jesus came into our world that is exactly how it seemed: God had not communicated with his people in 400 years. They are called "the silent years", because of the waiting without any word. Jesus comes and it is like a burst of light in the darkness of the world and like a yell into the silence that God had not forgotten his promise.

This year, all the Christmas lights meant a little something different. They reminded me that Jesus was the light to us, and they made me think of the joy people should feel when they experience that light. They also reminded me that we are to be a light to those around us. Light can be offensive when you've been in the dark for a long time, but it can also be a welcome experience.

I want to treasure the light as this dark, cold winter goes on, just as Mary held all the things concerning Jesus' birth in her heart and pondered them.

Sometimes I doodle to get me through my day.

Cat Theology

I took Italics to the vet last week. I was filled with apprehension and I'd put it off a long time, but I knew that it was (obviously) what needed to be done to keep my cat boy healthy. I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant because he is all tiger.

I warned the nurse as she took him out of his carrier. She thanked me and told me many cats were like that. I thought, "lady, you have no idea..." He was calmish though being weighed and getting his temperature taken, but I could see that he was simply getting pushed to the edge- I was anticipating meltdown while the unsuspecting nurse assumed all was fine.

Italics began to hiss and fight, and since he wouldn't calm down the nurse decided to bring in the big guns: a man-woman with a pair of hawking gloves.

Between nurses,Italics scrambled to get to me for safety, but the nurse took him back to the table. They didn't stay on the table for long, and they ended up wrestling on the floor so the vet could give T- cat his shots. Tally screamed and struggled, causing my stomach to be tied in knots. When I got in the car, I confess that I cried a little.

As I'd put Italics in the car, I thought to myself, "This must be a bit how God feels-- though I know Italics will hate this trip, I know it's for his good." How often do we go through something hard that we must endure, but that God doesn't delight in putting us through? How often does his heart grieve for us as we endure? In the car, I was moved to tears because watching Tally struggle had been so hard. His trip could have been much easier, but instead of trusting that I hadn't brought him there to be attacked he struggled. Maybe God weeps when he sees us struggle and fight against something that will ultimately bring us good. Often I think that God is withholding or causing my struggles and I become resentful. What if it's not so much that God is causing my pain but allowing it? I've "known" this, but today I feel like I experienced the other side of it.

How Do You Say Goodbye?

On Thursday Mom told me that Grandma had died. We were expecting it (sort of) because on Tuesday she hit her head. Wednesday morning she never woke up and was rushed to the hospital. As I've struggled with my emotions over the past few days, I have have been thinking a lot about Heaven. For years Grandma had been in a wheelchair. Last time I visited, we went to the beach. We pushed Grandma to the edge of the parking lot in Carmel. She could see the sand and the surf, but she couldn't touch it because she had to stay in her chair. Today my Grandma can glory in the beach. She is free to walk on the sand and even chase the sandpipers along the shore. She could swim if she wanted. I remember that my Grandma was a pianist. The arthritis gnarled her hands and she couldn't play. Today her hands are perfect. Her playing is flawless again. It's funny because I imagine her young and beautiful, playing piano in Heaven. I know that the focus of Heaven is Jesus, but I still like to imagine that He is excited to hear her play again. It's reassuring to know that her soul is with Christ. Today as I sang in church, I began to cry because it hit me that I was joining in with all the saints to worship Jesus. I was joining in with my Grandma to worship Jesus.

I've felt really sorry that I never got to sit down with my grandmother and tell her about my Uganda trip. She was so supportive and I was supposed to visit her right after coming home from Africa, but I got sick. I thought about some of the kids from Good Shepherd's Fold who have died. Kids I never met, but one morning we visited their graves. I imagine them crowding around my grandmother telling her about Uganda and their stories in more detail than I could ever give. She is perfect and perfectly with the Savior that her heart loved so well.

I remember being small and going to visit Daffodil Drive. The whole house would smell like baking and the counter would be full of treats. I remember homemade dresses. Trips to the beach, eating hamburgers in the sun or sourdough bread on the Fisherman's Warf. I remember her beautiful handwritten letters. I remember how she called me "Emmy" and the joy in her voice when she spoke to me. I remember her and I miss her. She is complete now, and she will come running toward me some day to welcome me into the perfect presence of Jesus.

“You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.” - G. K. Chesterton

Crazy Stupid Love

Last night Emily and I went to see Crazy Stupid Love in the dollar theater.

The premise of the story, featuring Ryan Gosling and Steve Carell, is that Carell's character is told by his wife that she wants a divorce. Carrell is devastated by the news and heads to the bar where he meets the sharply dressed, smooth, womanizing Gosling who offers to help Carrell become man enough to get his wife back. As Carrell fights to get his wife back, Gosling unintentionally falls in love with a girl(Emma Stone) realizing that while he was trying to "Miyagi" Carrell into being more like him, Gosling subconsciously is really looking to be more like Carrell. The movie makes it clear that Gosling is unhappy with his life, and it become apparent that falling in love is the solution to satisfy him.

As far as chick flicks go, this was a likable one. I laughed, I cried, and I made sure that I didn't internalize this message. In my eyes, Gosling's character is just a step away from becoming Carrell's character. Both are longing for love, which is a delightful sentiment but holds little weight compared to the heaviness of life. Passion fades and only marriages that are rooted in something deeper last.

I'd dare to even take this a step further. This weekend Emily, Laura Jo and I hosted a wedding shower for Kristi and Alex. We set up a station where people could write marriage advice for them. I couldn't help but think of something my Dad once told me about his and my Mom's relationship. He told me that commitment to a person fades, but your commitment to God doesn't. I think that often we look for a person's love to fix us, but only the love of God enables us to be fixed and love others.