finding Jesus

A few years ago my grandma gave me a teeny glass nativity.  It contained, of course, teeny glass baby Jesus.  Except Jesus went missing.  I hope he just grew up and went off to shepherd or something, because missing Baby Jesus actually makes me really sad.

My mom was just looking for baby Jesus and walked out of the dining room about to move onto whatever her next task was

MOM: What am I doing?

ME: Finding Jesus?

MOM: I can’t find him.

ME: *sad face*

MOM: Just say ‘Mom, I know you haven’t found Jesus’

In context, I didn’t grow up in a Christian family.  And while most of the time I’m okay with it, sometimes, it’s just a little hard having this fire, this passion, and nobody getting it.

Also, Baby Jesus is still missing, and that really sucks.  I mean, I know Baby Jesus is just a little piece of glass, but lacking Baby Jesus kind of makes a nativity pointless.


christmas love

My Christmas is about Jesus.  It’s about the love of a God did a crazy thing and sent a baby to be born of a virgin teenage girl who was a nobody to love and redeem.  We’re all nobodies.  And God loves us the same.

I don’t know what you believe, what you celebrate, what you’re doing today.  But, whatever you do, today [and every day], do it in LOVE.

oh happiness . . .

Awesome night tonight.  Brenda and I baked cookies.  It was nuts.  We had to combine our knowledge in order to make them happen, but they totally did.

We also partied to Addison Road, pretended to know words to Christmas songs and spent far, far too much money on candy in Superstore and had adventures in self-checkout.

Also, we missed Elisa, because the studio and school-land ate her and kept her from us.

Friday’s small group night is gonna rock, if tonight is any indication.