I finished another book.

I just got done with the dentist and I think that I've decided that while they are working on my mouth, I am more conscious of the fact that they are partially dissecting my mouth then the fact that they are cleaning my teeth. And if they think that free floss changes that, they are sadly mistaken. Although as a college student, I do appreciate the gesture of the giving of free goods.

I'm in the warm corner of a coffee shop, namely Starbucks, since I'm in Raleigh, listening to the conversations melting together around me. Two women are catching up on their families, two men are talking about ideas and poetry and their favorite columns in the New York Times (if I could pick a conversation to join, this would be it.), Two women are talking about church. They have with them a little girl who is coloring and who every now and then looks up from her organic apple juice box to stare at me. I smile back. She hasn't smiled at me yet though. This is why I love coffee shops: connection without knowing anyone in here but the barista. This brings me to what I have just finished reading- Jesus wants to Save Christians by Rob Bell. He writes of redemption, community and service. He writes about a plot. A plot that you might know well, where over and over God redeems his people. And over and over, his people forget. We, as Americans, forget the marginalized- just like the Israelites. More terrible than that, I settle into my Christianity, forgetting the price paid for my soul, and I forget that I have been blessed to be a blessing.

Rob Bell says, "If we have any resources, any power, any voice, any influence, any energy, we must convert them into blessing for those who have no power, no voice, no influence."

God is a God who hears. From the Israelite slaves in Egypt, to the widows and orphans and refugees. When we open our hearts and ears to the hurt around us, we are acting as God would.

Rob Bell calls Christians "a living Eucharist,allowing [their] body to be broken, and [their] blood to be poured out for the healing of the world." He calls the church to "feel what others feel, to suffer what they suffer, to rejoice when they rejoice. To say 'me too'." But so often the church does not live this way. Bell says "the church must cling to her memory of exodus, because if that memory is forgotten, the church may forget the poor, and if the poor are forgotten, the church may forget what it was like to be enslaved and that would be forgetting the grace of God. And that would be forgetting who we are."

I asked God to remind me last night of the beauty of Christmas, of its purpose.

Christmas occurred because once, a very long time ago, people decided that their ultimate worth was found outside God. They decided that God was not good or trust-worthy, and that they could do things better on their own. They sought life elsewhere. And for some, crazy reason, "it appears, from all the records, that though He has often rebuked us and condemned us, He has never regarded us with contempt. He has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense. (C.S Lewis)" So God sent his son. Because he so loved us. Because through giving his son, we are able to have faith and we are able to have eternal life. Christmas is so much deeper than a cute baby in a cold stable. It is so much more meaningful than a fat man in a red, fir trimmed outfit miraculously sliding down the chimney that you may or may not have.

I guess I challenge you, as I challenge myself, to grab hold of God's heart for the world, for God's heart for the world, and figure out how you can join him where his heart is beating.

Merry Christmas; rejoice in the wonderful heart that God has for you, and the world.


Currently listening to: my free Starbucks download of the week, Stuck to you; Nikka Costa. She will be replaced with Sufjan Stevens' Christmas album.
Currently drinking: a salted, caramel hot chocolate
Currently eating: pumpkin loaf
Current scarf: light blue and very shed-y, but a nice contrast to my dark jacket.