Christmas 2005

One of my most loved Christmas traditions, aside from everything associated with the holiday, is the Muppets Christmas Carol. There is nothing to set me in the spirit of Emmanuel like a rat screaming "LIGHT THE LAMP NOT THE RAT!" The whole thing tickles me, and I am forced to give into the temptation of snorting and laughing uncontrollably like a mad woman. Yes, those who know me well know what this looks like. However, along with the rat and other precious Muppet type creatures, comes the Dickens moral of Christmas present. I must say, to be honest(snicker), although I recognized the moral of these widely published ideas, I did not really, in any way, ever apply their meaning to my own life. I figured I did not in any way, resemble a scrooge like figure. I mean would scrooge laugh at the rat joke...I think not.

I had not been, in the past or present, and I deduce will not in the future be visited by any of the ghosts written by Mister D, nightcap or no night cap. I would nod and smile-"Nice story Mister Dickens," and place it neatly beside frosty the snowman and Suzy snowflake (do you know her?) in my Christmas brain file.

Life application wonderments.
So I was talking to a friend of mine the other day- we had not spoken in a while, and although our conversation was short- his words were sweet and treacherous. I had mentioned during out conversation and I both envied and pitied him for being in our home town over the holiday season. Perplexing. As I wrote this to him I thought to myself, hey is this true? Strangely...it was. I was a fraction of a fraction relieved not to be at home with those that I love.
Interesting.

So then the next natural thing to do is question...why in fact I felt that way. Oh the ghosts that haunts me now. I think every year I ache a little for the things I use to have, the things I have, and the things I will receive. I look at old photos and miss the faces that smile on 4x6 papers. Perhaps the faces are a province or country away, perhaps we have drifted, perhaps they have died, perhaps we have broken up in some dramatic romantic adventure. A deep although happy sigh.

I look at my gifts, beautiful and heartfelt, especially the mug that says IGA wrapped with love from the Maple ridge elementary bizarre. There I sit amongst the paper and bows and I have a moment of guilt/ feeling of unworthiness- again happy- very blessed. I look at a moments and want to freeze frame, bottle, preserve, salt and save for a cloudy day in South Korea. Like, for example, when my mom caught one of her Christmas gifts on fire and rather than stomping it out she stood there and flapped like a bird..cawing for help- perhaps even fanning the fire. If that were not enough, Macheala steps up and flaps with her, and joins the cawing chorus. Superhero Sarah comes to the rescue tea in hand. Arriving on the scene to see there was a very large ball of fire on our floor, being so lovingly fanned by my freaking out family. Calm and level headed Sarah saves the day with a quick swoosh of her red rose. Good Times.

The thing about return home during the holiday season, is that you are forced to look Christmas past right straight in the eye. Home is where Christmas, in your world, began. There is no escaping the ghosts. Being in Korea this year, I placed a nice, convenient and healthy layer of ice around my Rutherford heart. Deep down inside I knew that if I even tempted my heart with memories of Christmas past, that my poor mortal heart would break. My ghosts are pleasant, much like scrooges ghosts, and I much like scrooge was not willing to visit with those ghosts...for fear of the repercussions. The conversation with the old friend stirred things in me that I had worked so hard to avoid. I was tempted to not open his email for fear it would chip away at my nice and convenient ice barrier. Avoidance lost again. To experience joy, we have to take those chances with our hearts. Stepping out in faith that our memories..Even though the pluck at our heart strings, they are worth the reflection. Love is a double sided coin, in that it hurts to love deeply, however its worth far outweighs its pain.

So the applicable nature of Mister Charles Dickens was much more substantial than I had ever anticipated. I resemble more Christmas "bad guys," than I would prefer. The conversation with Christmas past was one that pushed me to introspectively look at my icy ways, and the beauty of the risk.

Merry Christmas: Korea 2005

Grinchlike in Korealand
When I was in fourth grade we sang this song for the Christmas concert, and the lyrics of this song have followed me every Christmas since. Now, I am unsure if it was the drilling methods of my music teacher, or if it was a Grinch like heartgrowing exercise that has made these words follow..me however...they have. If no other reason, that my mini revelation I am sharing with you-well I suppose I see worth in humming the little ditty for over 10 years. It goes like this:

"Christmas isn't Christmas until it happens in your heart, somewhere deep inside you is where Christmas really starts. So give your heart to Jesus and discover when you do....what Christmas - really, Christmas is to you."

Christmas in Korea 2005: The adventures of understanding and making Christmas my own.

I have been spoiled. I have had Christmas in a warm little house, filled with loud and abnoxious animals and children. I have made over 1000 gingerbreadmen, and perhaps eaten 800 of them. I have set up a tree on the day of my birth for 21 years, and I have brainwashed my youinger siblings into wanted the gifts I have chosen for them. In my small foreighn abode, I am far from my loud little Milfordinan home. It hasn't felt like Christmas...until recently. It's been too quiet- perhaps a little uneventful. I mean sure, I have been known to be the only girl on mainstreet busting a move to jingle bell rock (like I already don't stand out with my white skin and red cheeks), and I have sat on myt deck during the first snow, with my partner in crime....drinking tea and wearing glowing rudolph noses. All of this is fine and dandy...but where are my doodads, jinglehoppers and flufflerooos? I am missing the point.

Growing up is something else. I realized, this year I don't have the warm up to Chritsmas that I would normally have...I work until december 23rd..today, and don't have any extra time off.. Then I began to think...why do I need a warm upto worship my savior? Do I need a warm house and 1000 gingerbreadcookies to worship my savior? I should be worshipping my Savoir daily...no warm up required. This holiday isn't about how I feel at all....its about Jesus- and honoring that baby in a manger. Christmas will not be christmas in Korea....until it happens in my heart. Thank you Lord for opening my eyes to my selfish behavior~

Experiencing Christmas in Korea has grounded Christmas for me- in the complications of making my own Christmas dinner, and being "santa," I have gained a clear understanding of the simplicty that Christmas should be. Christmas, this year will include myself, a girl I don't know, my dear Lauren and my dear Nathaniel in my little apartment. We will rise Christmas morning and leave the gifts under the tree. We will go to the nearby fellowship and worship our Lord on the day of his birth. We want this. When have we ever wanted something so simple? I've pulled a grinch and given up my jinglehoppers and brainwashing games. I have exhaled..and perhaps really understand for the first time ever.

We can't make Christmas happen....we have to let it happen.
For I bring you good news of great joy to all the nations, for unto you borne this day in the city of david, is a son..a savior..a king.

Welcome to the world of online secret sharing. It's funny because I remember when I thought Blogs were really quite stupid. I could not- for the life of me, understand why a person would write a journal online...really isn't that fishing for something? However, theses days(that one was for you Lauren) it seems like more of a newsletter about those you love, minus the grammar and other valuable newsletter type details.

So- thanks to Nicole W for her threatning IM's...and for long afternoons in Korealand..being a "teacher."

Blessings me loves