So There.

Imogene Gwendolyn Kelley

November 29, 1915 - December 22, 2012

97 years, 22 days, and an unknown number of hours.

Such a full life.  Great Grandma was spunky, eccentric, and opinionated to the end.  If I ever make it to 97, I want to be like you.  I want to begin every statement with "Now children," and end them with "so there."  I want to be stubborn enough to survive without going to the doctor for years, and strong enough to break my neck at the age of 95 and have no debilitating damage.  I'm going to miss your stories and your funny phrases.  I'm going to miss you.

But as much as we miss you, we celebrate you.  You were a mother, grandmother, and great grandmother, who had seen much in her long life.  You knew how to live life to the fullest, and you enjoyed your 97 blessed years.

So There.

Home for the Holidays

"For to us a child is born,

to us a son is given,

and the government will be on his shoulders.

And he will be called

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the greatness of his government and peace

there will be no end.

He will reign on David's throne

and over his kingdom,

establishing and upholding it

with justice and righteousness

from that time on and forever.

The zeal of the Lord Almighty

will accomplish this."

Isaiah 9:6-7

Does anyone else read these verses as they are recorded in Handel's Messiah?  I can't just read them - I always sing them in my head.  Maybe that's just me.

Merry Christmas, everyone!  It is so wonderful to be home for the holidays!  After such a busy semester, it has been so great to relax at home with the family.  Despite minor setbacks like fighting some form of a cold/laryngitis for over a week and having to work an obscene number of hours (I actually pulled an all-nighter one night.  14.5 hours in the store.  6pm - 8:30am.  that's a soapbox for another day.), it has been such a joy to participate in our family Christmas traditions.  Jessica & I (actually, mostly Jessica - I was mostly moral support) even made crepes this morning, just like my Nana usually does.  This is the first year that my family has had Christmas entirely on our own, which is definitely a little weird.  I miss seeing my extended family:  catching up, playing endless hours of card games, reading at least one good book, etc.  But it is also nice to create our own family traditions - experimenting with new recipes (we're currently making Chocolate Espresso Fudge Cake from the Trellis cookbook - yummmm!), and focusing more on our time together as a family than on gifts and the extravagance that the Christmas season can bring.  We've gone through so much as a family over the past 6 months - life transitions and seasons of grieving - it is just nice to have the four of us together again.  I have especially loved being able to hang out with Jessica over the past week or so.  As much as I think it's good for us to be apart for this stage of our lives (it gives us an opportunity to grow as individuals), I do really miss her, and it feels so good to have my best friend around all the time again. :)

So it is with a content and happy heart that I leave you with the ending lines from my favorite Christmas movie.  From this little Sarah Lou Who to you:

Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be just as long as we have we. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart, and hand in hand. 

- How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Breath of Heaven

Here we are on yet another December 7.  On this day, six years ago (wow has it really been that long?), I met my first encounter with adult grief.  I think it changed me much more than I even thought at the time.  I was sad, not necessarily for me, but for others.  It was the first time that I really felt my heart go out to someone - that I wanted to heal someone else of their hurts.  But, also, looking back maybe I was too focused on others.  I did not learn how to grieve well, and this continues to be an area in which I struggle.  I still vividly remember hearing the news.   I had been to see her the night before, and the next day our school counselor told us what had happened.  I remember feeling like I was no longer in control of my body.  I abruptly stood up (I can still see the counselor's look of surprise), and started
r u n n i n g out of the room.  I was so thankful for my dear friend, who legitimately caught me and just held me until my mind and body were back in sync.  As someone who prides herself on her calm reactions, this was a completely disorienting experience.  I felt so helpless and powerless.

So today I'm thinking of you, Nicole.  How brave you were, and how loving.  You laughed and delighted in the Lord with such mature faith for your young age.  How I would have loved to see you grow up into the mature, smart, talented, and beautiful 18-year old you would be today.  You are such an inspiration to me.

I also wanted to post another one of my favorite Christmas songs.  I last posted one about Joseph's experience, and this one is about Mary's.  However, I think it also applies to the grieving heart, which is something I've been thinking a lot about today.

O Come O Come Emmanuel

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear.  Rejoice!  Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Guys, it's officially the Christmas season!  Yes, I am one of those people that dislikes jumping the gun and skipping over Thanksgiving.  Actually, this year, Target definitely had Christmas and Halloween stuff out at the same time.  But that is another soapbox altogether.

Anyways, today was the first Sunday of Advent.  This is one of my absolute favorite parts of the Christmas season - lighting candles, advent readings, and Christmas carols all intertwined into the worship service.  There is just something about the atmosphere that changes during the Christmas season, and it is so comforting, joyous, and b e a u t i f u l.  I don't normally blog about the sermons I hear at church on Sundays, but I thought today's was especially pertinent.  Today, we looked at waiting and what it means to wait well.  We are all waiting for something: the pay raise we've long anticipated, the perfect guy or girl to marry, the job that will change our careers, the college acceptance letter, the leadership position we've always wanted, etc.  For Zechariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1:5-25), they had been waiting for a child.  So this morning, we looked at how this couple's prayers were answered in a way that they never expected.  And as we move into Advent, and the celebration of the long-awaited Messiah, I think about how long and desperately the people of Israel waited for a Savior.  As someone who has very recently been struggling with waiting, and what true patience looks like, I felt so encouraged.  I can only see a piece of God's grand picture, but I am called to be an active participant in his redemptive work.  This means, while I may continue to prayerfully wait for _______, I am also living my life, and pursuing God's purpose for my life.  My waiting cannot completely debilitate me.

Come thou  long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.  Israel's strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art; dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.

The Christmas season also means that I've been rediscovering songs that I love but only allow myself to listen to once a year.  I hope to share some of these over the next weeks with you all.  This one was my absolute favorite Christmas song (that's not a carol) as a child.  My sister and I would want to listen to this CD on repeat every Christmas season: