I'm Dreaming of a...Grey Christmas?

That's right. Despite my most fervent prayers and denial of the weatherman's foretelling, there was no snow on Christmas. We did, however, get a lovely blanket of fog. Grey, dismal, horrible fog.

To combat the weather's reluctance to comply with my traditional Christmasy desires, I took on the joy of the holidays anyway and hung out with my family. Our Christmases have never been traditional, but this year was at an all-time...high?

I think I was nine when my mom decided we weren't going to have a Christmas tree anymore. For a few years we also didn't have gifts. Those are back now, but the tree never made a re-appearance. After that, my mom decided that she wanted to create a Christmas tradition that we would want to come home to when we're old and married. So for the last several years on Christmas Eve, my mom and dad and brother and I get together to slowly evolve our version of a family Christmas. This year, it looked someting like this: we start at 5 with fondue, and as soon as that's winding up we throw some appetizers in the oven. When those are finished, we throw some more in, etc. It goes on and on until dessert. Aaaaand then we throw some more hors d'oeuvres out on the table and eat until bed. Somewhere in the middle we also watch "It's a Wonderful Life" and usually play a board game. Then in the morning, it's up for any food we didn't finish the night before and home-made cinnamon buns and presents (this year we're doing renovations, so the pile of presents stood in the middle of the living room, sans tree of course, as the only thing in the room besides our new couch). And thus the new family tradition.

After that, we go to one side of the family Christmas night and the other on Boxing Day. Basically, it's three days straight of only eating and sleeping. It's wonderful.

But besides all that, even though it's wonderful to get to spend so much time with my family, one important truth remains: Jesus is the reason for the season (ahahaha, oh my but I do love clich
és). Sure, He probably wasn't actually born on December 25th and where the tree and Santa fit in we'll probably never know (and a reindeer with a birth defect that makes only his nose glow? Heaven help us!). BUT, this is the time once a year that we should be taking some time to remember that He came, how He came, and why He came. He came for me.

The mist killed my white Christmas dreams, but that was about it. It's actually quite beautiful when I stop and get over my delusions of "what Christmas should be" and just...stop. Breathe. Accept that this is how it is, and be okay.


I've Got a Feeling

Not meant to refer to the song. I wrote it, realized, but knew that this couldn't be titled anything else.

I'm sitting around, waiting on a miracle. Sure there are things I could be doing to pass the time so I don't have to think about these things so much, but unfortunately it always seems to creep up through my subconscious. Money has never been something I've ever had trouble trusting God with. He's always come through, and I've never doubted. Yet suddenly, when my back account is down to $7.92 and my pay cheque is not what I was hoping and it's only a few days before Christmas with gifts left to buy, tuition is only 3 weeks away, and my first rent cheque is due in 2...well I've been a little nervous. Especially when other people are telling me to plan for the worst and be prepared that I may not get the money I need. I try to explain that that is just not the way I operate, that faith is what I've chosen to live by; they don't understand the way I'd hoped they would.

All I know at the moment is that I have enough to get me through today. Probably enough to last me until the New Year. So why worry? God has pulled more amazing stuff out of His infinite hat before; $3600 is nothing to Him.

I just have absolute peace that some way, somehow, He's going to make this happen. So who am I to doubt? ...and maybe my faith in this area of my life will help me to trust in other areas as well. I'm not letting go of this hope.


It Went So Fast, and Now...

I don't have time for this right now, but if I don't make time for it then it will never happen. This is my first blog of December. I didn't know what to write until now. Now is as good a time as any.

I'm moving off dorms today. Most people have already been gone a week. I said it's because I'm working near here and there's still so much to do, but truth be told... when I leave, it's for good and I'm scared. This has been my home for almost a year and a half, and every step I take is a reminder of times gone by. Maybe this will be good for me, to finally shake the ghosts of this decrepit building and move on with my life. I feel like it will be a good in between, the basement suite; close enough to be able to walk here any time I want, far enough that I can ignore this place whenever I want.

This was not a good semester for me. It could have never happened, and I don't know if I would have noticed. I wrecked a lot of things, hurt myself and hurt others. I gained a lot of close friendships, and that in itself is worth it, but I wish there had been more. I'm walking away with a sense of dissatisfaction instead of accomplishment. I wish I could go back to September 8th and restart all over again. Maybe then I wouldn't have to face this person every morning.

There have been underlying things going on that I'm not going to go into detail about. As far as I can tell, everyone has underlying crap and if they don't ask about mine, it's not that they don't know it's there...they just don't want to know. Sometimes I guess it's easier to believe the worst about people instead of taking the time to find out the "why"s.

Stripping this room is going to feel so good. Knowing I never again have to take a shower in one of these can't-maneuver, no-pressure, burning-hot-to-freezing-cold-without-warning excuse for a shower, well, it's a beautiful thing. These mattresses are out of my life for good. I get a full closet to myself. There will be privacy when I want it. No curfew. What I want to eat, whenever I want it. TV all the time.

And yet. I'll never again call this place home. No room to run up to quickly for a sweater or my homework or nail polish to help boys with their guitar playing. No aframe downstairs where I know that no matter what's happening up here, down there will be good times. And as much as I hate the meals, I love the community feel of it. Truth be told, I'm really going to miss this place.

I have some incredible memories here. Maybe leaving will make them that much sweeter. That's all I can really hope for.