  |  |  |  |  |
Christmas Eve
It is Christmas eve.
I think about memories. When Christmas was so exciting as kid. Perhaps, it is still exciting in some ways... but now I feel more aware... of things I don't like about Christmas.
My parents always made it a point when we were kids not to put too much emphasis on the materialism of Christmas. When friends at school talked about all their many presents I would wish I had gotten more...
Now I so appreciate this about my family. I appreciate that this year I make homemade hummus and real chai for Christmas presents and sold handmade items by survivors of sex trafficking and they love it. They rave about the hummus and my mom expresses gratitude that I followed her suggestion to make something homemade that could be shared with the whole family. My dad asks and listens intently as I tell him how to make the hummus. "The key is you have to use dry chickpeas, and hand shell them...takes much longer, but definitely worth it.." They don't live on a farm. They live in a metropolitan suburb where every house looks the same.
If I could I would like to take them all on a plane to Africa. I think we would all enjoy each other more there than here. I think it would make my sister smile, I think it would take 10,000 bricks off her back from working 7 days a week at her Spanish internet cafe where she barely takes a break... what am I even saying in this blog?
What I want to say is the materialism makes me sigh... I missed Africa tonight, I cried.
I put a blanket over my head and prayed in some other language and cried cried cried, and then...
the laughter came. Mostly now days when i hide myself away to speak to my Abba tears pour out from some deep place within. I am out in that part of the ocean somewhere, past the waves, where the water is deep and barely moves... I am out there somewhere, who else is here?
Sometimes I can't help these days but to laugh and cry at the same time. It is mostly in the hidden place. I love those kind of women who cry over every tender word spoken. It is beautiful, but it is not me... my tears mostly come in secrecy...
Why do we get on blogs these days and share our hearts? Why are we so quick to be so slow to listen to the hearts of others...??
These days I have mostly questions. My best confession is that I do not know. And that these three remain...
Faith.
Hope.
n' Love...
"shine on 'till tomorrow...let it be..."
kk
I think about memories. When Christmas was so exciting as kid. Perhaps, it is still exciting in some ways... but now I feel more aware... of things I don't like about Christmas.
My parents always made it a point when we were kids not to put too much emphasis on the materialism of Christmas. When friends at school talked about all their many presents I would wish I had gotten more...
Now I so appreciate this about my family. I appreciate that this year I make homemade hummus and real chai for Christmas presents and sold handmade items by survivors of sex trafficking and they love it. They rave about the hummus and my mom expresses gratitude that I followed her suggestion to make something homemade that could be shared with the whole family. My dad asks and listens intently as I tell him how to make the hummus. "The key is you have to use dry chickpeas, and hand shell them...takes much longer, but definitely worth it.." They don't live on a farm. They live in a metropolitan suburb where every house looks the same.
If I could I would like to take them all on a plane to Africa. I think we would all enjoy each other more there than here. I think it would make my sister smile, I think it would take 10,000 bricks off her back from working 7 days a week at her Spanish internet cafe where she barely takes a break... what am I even saying in this blog?
What I want to say is the materialism makes me sigh... I missed Africa tonight, I cried.
I put a blanket over my head and prayed in some other language and cried cried cried, and then...
the laughter came. Mostly now days when i hide myself away to speak to my Abba tears pour out from some deep place within. I am out in that part of the ocean somewhere, past the waves, where the water is deep and barely moves... I am out there somewhere, who else is here?
Sometimes I can't help these days but to laugh and cry at the same time. It is mostly in the hidden place. I love those kind of women who cry over every tender word spoken. It is beautiful, but it is not me... my tears mostly come in secrecy...
Why do we get on blogs these days and share our hearts? Why are we so quick to be so slow to listen to the hearts of others...??
These days I have mostly questions. My best confession is that I do not know. And that these three remain...
Faith.
Hope.
n' Love...
"shine on 'till tomorrow...let it be..."
kk
Comment
Quick Trip Links
© 2012 Created by Venture Expeditions.
You need to be a member of Venture Expeditions Community to add comments!
Join Venture Expeditions Community