Advent

Why, oh why, are any of us mortals granted the gift of a child? Doesn't God have some safer place to put babies and toddlers than down here, slap-dab in the middle of the muck that is humanity?

I think the answer is yes. Yes, He does.

And STILL he places these sparkling, newly-minted humans into the care of the rest of us. I think He has His reasons, but often I find myself wondering. And in wonder. Of all that is "here below."

*

I can't believe my postings have so lapsed, by the way. I've had such good thoughts swirling in my head -- and that usually translates to some mind-stirring at the keyboard -- but time has been short all month.

I have had the best Advent. Really. I haven't been as devout as I think I should/ could be, but all the same I have felt the season step inside and settle into me. I have anticipated Christmas. Not the single Day, so much, as all the days that lead up to and make this a Christian holiday. The celebration and the reflection and the weight of it all has been with me. I am so in touch with my continued need for a savior, and at the same time, I am so joyously happy with what He has already saved me from and for.

(Note to any redheaded husbands who might be reading: I probably don't seem all that joyous. Or content. Much of the time. But, baby, I am! I think maybe these qualities take a while to move from the inside out. And old habits, like living in Sturm und Drang, are hard to break.)

That's all for now, as real life and vacation time pull insistently at my sleeve. More later, when I hope to, in some fitting way, share Miles' experiences and perceptions of Christmas. A bit of foreshadowing: Our tree has bells and stars and webs, oh my!

Tepee, anyone?

7:35 a.m.
Oh, the joys of a home approaching retirement age! I have no toilets.

Well, I have two, but I am forbidden to use them until a professional diagnoses their "issue" and returns their functions to normal. (About 18 months ago, we had to have tree root balls cut out of the pipes. I suspect they have regrown.)

I also have a tub full of residue and muck due to the toilet drainage lines backing up.

Last night, I actually went out in a rainstorm -- nay, a MONSOON -- to use the ladies room at a fast food restaurant. (Should I have bought fries with that? I was wracked with guilt, but I made no purchase.) And that wasn't even the most deperate thing I did under cover of darkness. Can anyone say, "campsite latrine?"

Listen, if this were 300 years ago and we were all Indians in the Piney Woods, no one would be bothered by my toilet au naturale. Noting everything that's gone wrong/could easily go wrong with this old house, I'm about ready to revert to native living! Just get a tepee and call it good.

Now, the plumber for whom I woke up an hour early is 40 minutes late. This did not happen to the Alabama-Coushatta Indians. Nope, not at all.

More later....

10:25 a.m.
I am now awaiting Plumber No. 2. Plumber No. 1 had more issues than the unflushable bowls.

#1. His elderly father is hospitalized and combative about having an IV installed. ("They just wanted to hang a bag on 'em; gotta recharge his electrolytres, you know. You're not a nurse or anything, are ya?").
#2. He has much bigger plumbing problems in line for the afternoon. ("I've got so many houses that are so backed up...")
#3. Finally, my "cleanout" is evidently not obvious enough. ( "I tell you what, I've been meanin' to get a metal detector.")

The toilet ban continues, and I grow more and more disgruntled....


3:30 p.m.
Flushing resumed 10 minutes ago.... Hallelujah! Guess I would have made a sorry Indian, after all, because I really am dependent on the technology that makes waste so magically disappear. We are BACK in the 21st Century, baby, and I'm diggin' it! Now, for my first shower of the day.

Hmm....

Observing the scum line three inches up the tub, maybe that one modern convenience can wait. BUT WE CAN FLUSH! (Voice raised in exaltation!) And flushing, dear friends, is fabbbb-ulous!

Seasonal Stress

What is all this Christmas stress, anyway? Everywhere is busy-ness! My friends are busy, my family is beyond occupied, and I have a line of tasks and goals from now to Dec. 25 that resembles Santa's long list. I feel the seasonal stress rubbing off on me, and I don't like it one bit! Stress is b.s.! Or, as the prophet Micah says, "He has shown you, on man, what is good. And what does The Lord require of you? To act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your God."

Forging through crowds, finding bargain presents and time to attend weekday parties (even when thrown by one's church!), buying new clothes and ornaments to exchange: None of this is required.

I am not preaching to any of you... just reminding myself before I get caught up in things I will so regret later.

New clothes are nice. New ornaments are fun. And I will likely make a round of church socials in the next week. (Oh, yeah, baby. How about 5 events in 7 days?! One an overnight with high school girls!) But NONE of this is required!

"Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever." The Westminster Shorter Catechism.

Now we're getting somewhere. My marvelous, oh-so-cool and very deep friend, Nikki, presented this quote to me recently, as she was asked to dwell on it for a weekly meeting. I did think about it -- a lot, even after we stopped emailing about it -- and I came up with some very divergent thoughts (seemingly contradictory, in tension but let's say within a common suspension). And all that thinking was more important than anything on the next crazy week's to-do list.

"Suddenly a great company of the Heveanly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying: Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth, peace to men upon whom His favor rests."
--Luke 2:14

I just want to be one of those humans, on "whom His favor rests."

Merry Christmas!