Merry Christmas and happy holidays... and to those who can't feel merry or happy because of chemical imbalances... much love!
I woke up today on the couch... I was avoiding the neighbors who scream at each other so loudly from three houses down at 1 and 5 am that I wake out of a dead sleep. It's very exciting to be sleeping on your couch. It felt like a grand adventure... though I must admit I woke up several times because I rolled over into the side. Clonk! Klonk!? Clunk...
I then made myself an enormous brunch from leftover Christmas breakfast... omelette, fruit, and croissant with coffee seasoned with eggnog! It was heavenly to savor breakfast slowly. I'm so conditioned to wolfing down my food in 10 minutes or less. Yesterday I realized at 2000 after a day of work where I barely sat down to eat that I hadn't peed the entire day! Sorry TMI.
At church I bawled all through Joy to the World and most of the other Christmas songs. I have had a long season of arid spiritual desert without even realizing it. I haven't had a good writing journal and didn't realize I depended on it to stay in contact with God so much. It's also been rough trying to find a new church since my old one dissolved. Plus the season is always one full of tension with my extended family. It's odd and heartbreaking to sing practical hymns (old Christmas carols) with people who don't believe in Jesus Christ as their savior.
Anyway, as always I want to bring joyful tidings... since that is after all what Christmas is truly about. Whatever is holding you back... remember it does not have the last word! The light shines in the darkness... not to expose and shame you... but to show the way into freedom from whatever it is holding you back. There is no sin, no brokenness, no hurt that cannot be redeemed and saved and remade. Hope has the final word. Dream on.
A word on the ridiculous. On my run (because it is imperative to my mental health - and I can at least be disciplined about exercise), my dream included marrying someone rich and big-hearted and opening the Home for the Odd and Unusual Children: where we would go sledding no matter whether there was snow on the ground, grow gardens of epic proportions, only watch the Muppets, Reading Rainbow, and Mr Rogers (and only after reaching the age of at least 2), eat sushi, kale, and other weird vegetables, tell jokes endlessly, perform lots of magic tricks, explore and create endlessly, and of course nurture all the children know they were loved no matter what.
A word of reality. There would be lots of fighting. Lots of putting my foot down (which I'm not very good at). Lots of tears. Probably lots of calling my mom in a panic. And maybe even feeling liked a complete failure. But I still think it would be great.
Love, me
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