You've never heard it this way before...

My children got this Nativity set for Christmas. It's wonderful for so many reasons, and Natalie loves playing with it (Elsie has been too busy pushing around her walking toy to really play with it).

Jason, Natalie, and I sat around playing with the Nativity this afternoon, and I thought I would give you a peek into the way the Christmas story really happened...



Joseph: C'mon, camel.

Mary: That's not a camel. It's a donkey.

Joseph: Oh, right. C'mon donkey. (walks to imaginary inn)
Knock, knock. Do you have any rooms?

Imaginary Innkeeper: No.

Joseph: Aw, man. (Moves on) Knock, knock. Do you have any rooms?

Imaginary Innkeeper: No. Sorry. What's your wife's name?

Joseph: Mary. And I'm Joseph.

Imaginary Innkeeper: Oh. I don't have any rooms, but you can stay in my barn.

Angel: GLLLLLORY TO GOD IN THE --

Joseph: Wait, not yet! Baby Jesus isn't born yet!

Angel: Oh, yeah.

(Mary and Joseph enter stable)

Baby Jesus: Waah! Waah! Waaaaaaaah!

Joseph to Angel: Ok, now.

Angel: Wait, the shepherd is supposed to be asleep!

(Shepherd falls over)

Angel: Ok. GLLLLLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!

Shepherd: AAAHHHHHHHH! (hides behind sheep)

Angel: Don't be afraid. I bring you good news. A baby is born. His name is Jesus.

Shepherd: You don't say that yet. (whispers) You'll find Him in a manger...

Angel: You'll find Him in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes. His name is Jesus. He's the Savior.

Shepherd: I'll go. Let's go, sheep. (walks over to stable) Baby Jesus, You are the Savior. I love You. I worship You. (Shepherd falls forward on face)

Wise men: We three kings from Orient are . . . following yonder star.

Wise man #1: Wait -- I see a baby. The star is shining over Him. Ok, guys. Just a little further.

Wise man #2: Wait! My camel fell over. (camel gets up) Ok, now I'm ready. (Wise men approach stable)

Wise man #1: Baby Jesus, I have brought You gold.

Wise man #2: I brought You frankincense.

Wise man #3: I brought You myrrh.

Wise men together: We worship You. (all fall forward) And the camels bow down, too. (camels fall down) Now the angel should sing a song.

Angel: God, please come . . . I mean -- Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are . . .

(Sheep fall over laughing)



And there you have it. The parts Luke left out when he told of the birth of our Lord.

If you are what you keep close...

On my nightstand there is:

- a picture of Jason and I at the altar on our wedding day, with my dad in the background (he had just given me away)

- my alarm clock

- a picture of my two sisters and me, taken about eight years ago

- a lamp

- a picture of my big sister and myself, taken about 26 years ago (Ruth, it's the one where I'm sticking my tongue out)

- whatever I'm currently reading (Destined to Reign, right now)


Occasionally there is a pen or two, some jewelry, and some hair ties, but the above items are consistent. The bottom shelf of my nightstand holds:

- two small packages of pictures, one of our vacation this summer, one of just the girls

- my Bible, notebook, and a copy of The Power of a Praying Wife

- a beautiful, leather bound book for writing my stories. Jason gave it to me.

- a notebook for writing cute little stories about the girls

- a notebook for writing . . . oh, mostly dreams I suppose, although some practical things go in there too. I don't know how to explain what this notebook is for, I only know when something does or does not belong in it. Actually, Jason gave me this one too, when we were courting.

- a pink notebook specifically for stories or articles. The first drafts. Only mostly perfected ones go in the leather bound book.

- a pen with my name engraved on the side (Jas got me this, too. Suddenly I'm thinking it's time for me to go buy him something...)

- a sudoku book

- the three stuffed animals Jason gave me when we were courting (two green bears and an elephant)

- a box full of index cards. At my baby shower for Elsie, my friends wrote encouraging words and tidbits of advice down for me. You don't even know how many times I've read through them.


And then UNDER my nightstand (because apparently I can't live without any of these things close at hand at all times) I have:

- Natalie's baby book and notes for all the things I'm going to put in Elsie's baby book

- a scrap book, and a pile of crayon drawings to put in it

- a tiny notebook that I used as for church notes and journaling in Bible College. I think I keep this one around because a.) it has extra pages, in case I need to make a list or something and just need a little piece of paper and b.) because it's my journal from Bible College! Ha! It's good to not be 18 again.

- two spiral notebooks that used to be Jason's, and that I've somehow (truly) by accident taken over. This is for rough drafts or stories that haven't shaped themselves as well as the ones that go in that pink notebook. I guess that one is more for second drafts...


I'm telling you all this because I was removing and replacing things on my nightstand to dust it the other day. I laughed at myself and thought, "What does all this stuff say about me?" That I still have pack rat tendencies? That I need to consolidate my notebooks? That this stuff has no other place to go?
And I was wondering if there are any souls out there brave enough to tell me: What is on your nightstand/bookshelf/floor by your bed?

Perfect

Marriage is a funny thing. When you are engaged, you are mystically and wonderfully convinced that the other person is perfect. You "know" that no one is perfect, but really . . . your guy is pretty close. And anything that isn't perfect is adorable.

Then you get married. And you pick socks up off the floor, and wash clothes. You push the toothpaste back to the front of the tube after he squeezes it in the middle. He sees you with bedhead and no make-up. He switches to My Fair Lady when the football game goes to a commercial. You live day-to-day life, in which days occasionally go bad, and everyone is grumpy. And eventually, you fight.
You fight as down and dirty as you did with your siblings when you were 12. Your siblings!! Who were so NOT perfect. And you realize that neither of you has come close to jumping the high bar of perfection.

But sometimes, that man will go and do things that take you right back to that pre-married delusional state of mind. Maybe he goes and buys your favorite expensive foods and fixes them for dinner. Maybe he takes you to see a local play. Maybe he gets you a card. Maybe he buys a bottle of sparkling pomegranate-apple juice. Or perhaps he makes a DVD of your life together, from your engagement through the first six years.

And so, I was convinced that Jason is perfect. Or at least, perfect for me.

The situation of Thanksgiving.

Sometimes I think Thanksgiving has a hard time of it, as far as holidays go. I mean, being the holiday right before Christmas -- that's got to be tough. People everywhere wait for Thanksgiving to be over so that Christmas will hurry up and come, and say things like, "Well, I am thankful. I'm thankful for Christmas."
I have to admit: I've said those words before (only in jest, Thanksgiving!) when others have scoffed at my Christmas tree being up so early. Yes. I am one of those. But I am also one who, in another blog long ago, used to list things I was thankful for all throughout the year. I don't believe that thankfulness should be saved for a season, like my Santa Claus kitchen towels.

This year I wondered what God thinks about the whole Christmas/Thanksgiving upset. I mean, I don't think He's angry or anything. But thankfulness is important. It's even a Biblical command!
Then I thought, that's ridiculous. God doesn't care if Christmas eclipses another holiday. We want to celebrate the fact that He gave His preciously loved Son to us. We want to be with our families and give gifts. We want to sing our hearts out on Sunday morning and remember that God sent that Little Baby because He wanted to be with US. He wanted us to be a part of his big family.

But it's still really important to be thankful.

Yep, that's how my mind went. From warm fuzzy to practical, in one step.

And so, in order to not take merely take time off while taking Thanksgiving for granted, I present for your reading enjoyment, a list of things I am thankful for.

I am thankful:

- that it's cold. Yes, it is harder to get up in the morning and exercise when it's cold, but it's nice to not be quite so icky afterward, too.

- that my husband is here this week. He was gone all of last week, and I missed him. He should probably be listed twice here. I love my life with him.

- I'm thankful that Wal-Mart sells Christmas tree stands for fake trees. (Ok, so I wasn't trying to mention Christmas, but...) Seriously -- this is a big deal for me! Our dear fake tree that we have had since our first Christmas as a married couple was falling apart, and wouldn't stand up. We tried to repair the stand, but I guess there's only so much tape and super glue can do. Having already spent money on decorations we didn't really couldn't go spend more on a fake tree, or a real tree plus an appropriate stand. I sincerely considered the fact that it might be best if we simply did not have a tree this year, and resigned myself to it. But praise God for cheap fake tree stands!

- Mexican food. I just plain love it. A chef on tv once said, "There's a bad time for pizza. There's never a bad time for a taco." I don't know about the pizza (well, ok ... maybe late at night), but I heartily agree about the taco.

- My Natalie Rhae. She has such personality, and I love that we're getting to see more and more of it. And the punch lines! Oh man! We've also had some good talks about God lately, and those are very special to me.

- Family. It is no wonder to me why the Bible says God sets the lonely in families. He's just that nice. I'm grateful for the one I grew up in, the one I live with currently, the one I married into, and the one I see every Sunday. What a blessing they all are to me. Thank you, Lord.

- My Elizabeth Joy. I'm so thankful for her laughs, her seeming obsession with songs (and their actions), and her kisses. Oh the kisses. She is not one to give you a kiss just because you ask (yet). But she doesn't mind giving them again and again once she's started!

- Music. There are some songs that have touched my heart lately, and it's reminded me how much I love this medium of worship. There is nothing quite like having a song in your heart all day long. Need a good one? Here's one I love. Ok, so it's a Christmas song. But I'm thankful for Christmas!

God speaks to me through cartoons. And I like it.

Did you ever watch "Lambert the Sheepish Lion?" I loved those Disney shorts. If you're unfamiliar with the story, you can watch it here. (Wait, you're not busy, are you? It is about 8 minutes long.)

I decided to see if I could find it the other day, to show to Natalie. Sometimes she's scared of things like this, with wolves and such, and sometimes not. So when the wolf arrived, I started talking to her.

"It's ok. Lambert's gonna save the sheep from the wolf. He's afraid right now, but he'll become brave soon. It's silly that he's scared, see? Because he's a lion -- he's so much bigger than that wolf. He doesn't need to be afraid at all."

It didn't take long for an allegory to form.

We've grown up in this world and have listened to the lies that the sheep -- ie, other people and the world -- have spoken to us everyday since we were born. We've let those lies make us insecure and fearful. We've bought into the lies, grown up with them, and learned to put on sheepish grin when we hear them repeated. We've learned to accept them as truth. We're just trying to be sheep like everyone else, after all.

But -- WE ARE NOT SHEEP! (not for the sake of this analogy, anyway). We are huge, bold, loud lions with big feet, and a bigger appetite for the things of God. We are meant to smash those lies in our lives and deliver those around us. We are meant to head-butt the devil and send him flying over a cliff.

If we would only realize who we are. We can't do it while we're still acting like sheep.

When all I want is you, then all I have to do is dream...

This is what I've been looking at lately:



No, I'm not on a November get-away. I'm at my house. This is a picture of a beach in Maine, where Jason and I went for our honeymoon. I just happened to look through some pictures on his laptop the other night, and there was this:

(See the Christmas trees in every window?)

and this:

And also these:


Of course, it brought so many warm, loving, man-those-were-good-days sort of thoughts. Which seems very appropriate, because in a few weeks Jason and I will have our anniversary. We will have been married for six years. That's the longest I've done anything, I'm pretty sure. Longer than I went to college, longer than I've been a mom . . . ok, ok, I can't think of anything else. Remember, I'm only 27.

But still, I'm amazed that for six years I've been wearing his ring. Putting my head on his shoulder. Looking into those green eyes full of big dreams. Having conversations that sometimes made me nervous, because of those big dreams. Laughing or crying about things no one else could share in. Giving my heart, and receiving his in return.

It's been a good six years.

Last night I was reminded of how I used to brown meat for spagetti in a pan much too small, and how we used to eat spagetti practically every week when we first got married (what did we eat for dinner growing up? I drew a blank too often). And there I was, six years later, listening to Christmas music and browning meat for spagetti in a pan much too small. But this time it was too small because of the children we've added to the dinner table.

And I was very, very content.

Serving like Jesus.

I read John 13 today, where Jesus washes His disciples' feet. Naturally, I thought of how He was serving His disciples and how they were surprised that their Teacher would put Himself beneath them to wash their feet.
But (and someone correct me if I'm wrong) wasn't that the servant's job? Or was it each man's responsibility as he came in the door? I'm asking, because if washing feet was the job of a servant, than it wasn't just that Jesus was lowering Himself below Rabbi standards. He wasn't just putting Himself on the same level as His disciples. He was making Himself lower than His disciples.

It's a simple thought, but it changes the way I look at this passage.

Because if I am to serve others the way Jesus served His disciples when He washed their feet, then what does that look like? Washing someone's dishes, or bringing them a dinner I cooked myself doesn't seem quite the same. It's definitely serving, but it is something that they would have done for themselves and thought nothing of it. It seems more like doing something for someone that they would not want to do for themselves.
Like . . . cleaning their gutters? Removing gunk from their shower drain? I don't know. . . I'm still figuring out what this would look like.

Maybe I should start a little simpler. What is something I could do for Jason that needs to be done, but that he wouldn't enjoy doing or doesn't have time for? How could I serve my children this way. I'm thinking that changing Elsie's diapers means I've got her covered.
Ok, so this post is a little tongue-in-cheek, but this is what I'm thinking on right now. What does it mean to be a servant like that? And how can I do it today?