The "I Don't Know" of Christmas

I'm starting to measure the productivity of my days by the number of dishes that I wash in our apartment. Oh, dear. 

It's that time of year again.

You know the drill: lights, cameras, and... well, action. Just not the movie-star kind of action. More like the I-can't-stand-my-family-and-need-an-excuse-to-leave kind of action. Surely you know what I'm talking about.

Now don't get me wrong. I love the holidays. I enjoy my family. Heck, I even like my in-laws. And I love any excuse to get out of school.

There's one thing, though, that always baffles me around this time of year. And no, it's not the fact that Jesus probably wasn't born on December 25th.

It's the inevitable "I don't know" of Christmas.

You've been there - I know it. You go to family reunions around Thanksgiving, and without fail, a particular relative or two asks you what you want for Christmas. You know it's coming every year, and yet, you inevitably mumble your answer:

"I don't know."

Now if you're reading this, you most likely don't need anything for Christmas (unless you have one too many "hole-y" socks - my wife claims this is the case for me). However, we all want something or other, right? I mean, you can never have enough stuff.

Or can you?

I think that "I don't know" moment at those family reunions with those pesky, persistent relatives reveals something about us.

Now, before you jump ship, let me just say that I'm not advocating the abandonment of Christmas gifts. In fact, I have a wish list for myself (which you can see here!). That isn't where I'm going with this (today, anyway).

What I am advocating, though, is a little more thought when we respond to others with our "wish list" for Christmas. If you had that "I don't know" moment this year, even for half a second, then I'm talking to you.

If you, for even a millisecond, weren't sure what you wanted for Christmas this year, consider wishing for something that someone else needs this year. There are a million and one ways that you can do this. One of my favorites, though, comes from the World Vision Gift Catalog.

This thing is so cool. You can buy a GOAT for crying out loud! I'm guessing you'll be the only person in your neighborhood wishing for that for Christmas.

And if goats aren't your thing, there are a bunch of other cool things you can wish for...

• A chicken. Not to eat, though, so don't get any ideas.
• A DUCK! Sorry, I just get really excited about this stuff.
• A sheep, if you don't want your gift to try and fly away.

Not to mention a few other cool things that would truly change this world...

• Emergency food for someone that's literally starving to death.
• Life-saving medicines for someone that's dying of a curable disease.
• Help for a girl who is being sexually exploited.

Wow.

Even as I type, I can't imagine wishing for anything else. 

... ... ...

Question: What are you wishing for this Christmas? Would you consider wishing for something out of the World Vision Gift Catalog?

Note: I am in no way affiliated with World Vision. I could disappear and they would never know. I just really like their gift catalog and think you would like it, too.

A Higher Truth

"Brr," is now becoming an acceptable response to "How are you doing?" around here.

You know, I enjoy Facebook.

Regardless of any unnecessary changes that might’ve happened to it and any changes that really creep me out that are coming in the near future, I enjoy it because there’s never been anything like it.

For instance, I can tell, without ever talking to a person in real life, whether a person is well-educated, snarky, rude, light-hearted, intriguing, or attractive. I don’t even have to be in the same country as them to know all of this!

Nowadays, I can even enjoy the thoughts of people that I don’t want to “friend” on Facebook. It’s kind of weird to think about, but maybe there’s something positive to take from this. You see, I enjoy Facebook, not because it gives me the opportunity to make split-second judgments about hundreds of people within the span of minutes, but because I enjoy people. And people make me think.

In fact, a couple of people, in particular make me think more often than others. One of my closest friends enjoys shaking things up a bit, and few months ago, he posted a status that spurred on some pretty interesting conversation.

The Facebook status in question.

I posted a response to my friend’s question, but it was just my initial reaction. And, ultimately, my initial reaction was summed up in this post.

As I’ve been chewing on it for a few days, though, I’ve come to another conclusion. And maybe I’d better not call it conclusion, as that implies finality and closure. However, I think I’ve been led to at least a thought or a proposition of sorts. And here it is:

We all seek truth. Of that, I have no doubt. Maybe some of us are a little misguided in our journey, but we're on the same journey, nonetheless. And in our conquest for truth, we seek facts. We want knowledge. Because what higher form of truth is there than the facts? After all, aren't facts the essence of truth?

Why then, can I distort facts? I could use the fact that 50% of marriages end in divorce to support the institution of marriage. Or I can use the same fact to say that marriage is an antiquated ritual with little to no social benefit. And in both instances I can’t be “wrong” because I’m using facts to support my claims. But both positions can’t be correct, can they?

Maybe, then, there’s a higher form of truth. Something God uses to communicate that is more than facts. And I know that my proposition can’t be proven in a court of law or supported by facts, but maybe there’s a higher truth.

To me, that higher truth is found, not in facts, but in story.

Think about it. As a child, were you taught through facts or stories? Even now, consider how you learn. Do you get to know people by uncovering factual information about them (age, height, city of birth), or do you truly get to know people through their stories?

Maybe there’s something more to truth than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, we’re a little off-base when our mindsets are, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

Because maybe, just maybe, there’s something more than just the facts. And something truer, too.

Question: What sort of stories have influenced your life? Can you think of any stories that have truly changed your life? Or do facts communicate truth better to you?

I’d love to hear from you about this! Just leave a comment with your thoughts, opinions, beliefs, stories – just about whatever you want – or shoot me an e-mail!

Assuming the Position

We're only getting about 8 hours of solid daylight around here. Not good motivation for the last week of school. Or finals. Boo, finals.

I'm pretty stoked.

Overwhelmingly stoked, in fact.

One of my favorite blogs, authored by Jamie Wright, the Very Worst Missionary, is renting out their web space to me!

She's a pretty awesome woman (even though I've never actually met her), and her husband has a beard that's even better than mine.

Plus, there's a picture of me there from when I was like 15 (it's from my Twitter account - my wife was kind enough to laugh at me for it) and didn't even have a beard.

So do yourself (and me!) a favor and go check it out, leave some feedback, and thank Jamie for letting me guest post! And give her a "follow" while you're at it!

You guys rock. Thanks in advance.

Oooklahoma!

Coming back to school after Thanksgiving break just isn't right.

See? Red dirt IS weird!

I've spent the last few days relaxing in Oklahoma. I live in Kansas, so the red dirt is kind of weird. Also, I don't get the OU-OSU rivalry thing (what's a Sooner, anyway?). But I can't be thankful enough for the time I had there, and more importantly, for the friends I have there.

Oddly enough, though, one of my most defining memories for the trip wasn't until the last day we were there.

We visited a church with our friends that we've been to before, and the entire experience is worth recounting. Just a snippet will do, though.

We headed to Sunday School (do they still call it that?) with our friends. It was a little awkward, but we had been in the class before. We climbed the stairs and entered after they finished praying (because we were late, but who's counting?). As we searched for seats, none of the people in the class seemed to mind that they were being intruded upon by strangers. They were ready to learn, share, and grow, regardless of our presence. And I'm so thankful for that.

We took our seats, and the topic of discussion for the morning was rather routine: "What are you thankful for?" Naturally, after celebrating a holiday of American imperialism and over-indulgence, we have to give ourselves a pat on the back for how awesome we are, right? Thankfully, though, that wasn't the course that this discussion took.

It was amazing to listen to this class disclose their lives to me, a stranger (and one who blogs, at that!). We went around the room, sharing what we were grateful for, and out of the fifteen or so people in the room, not a single one said, "I'm thankful that we have money," or "I'm thankful we have a nice car."

Instead, time and time again, people rehashed how thankful they were for their families. For the class we were sitting in. For their health. 

And that one hit me hard. Almost every single person in the room who went before me was thankful for good health. And as they talked about how their families were in tip-top shape health-wise, I'm sure they didn't realize how frustrating that was to me. How much I miss being healthy.

But ruminating on past losses wasn't the point of the exercise, so I tried as best I could to fight it through with God in that little time I had. I wrestled with him, in front of friends and strangers in a strange place with red dirt, and I think I won.

And by "I won," I mean, "He kicked my butt."

You see, I have health. I can walk, for the most part. I can even exercise on occasion, and that feels great. What's not to be thankful for?

So that day, I told a room of strangers, without disclosing details, about my biggest insecurity. Though they may not have realized it, I shared a piece of myself in one simple sentence that I can hide from the rest of the world, if I please.

I said, "I'm thankful that I was able to climb the stairs today."

And I was. I was thankful that I was healthy enough to climb the stairs to get to that class. But more than that, I was thankful to be there, amongst a group who shares a bond of love that supersedes geographic boundaries. A group who was thankful in spite of the fact that, while they were praying as we arrived, tears of pain and brokenness were flowing.

So although I may have a particular distaste for the reason we celebrate Thanksgiving, its reminder is important to me, and I want to share that with you: be thankful always.

What are you thankful for today?

Missed Opportunities

Is it bad to laugh at a 2 year old when he cries? Because my nephew cries like the world is over at pretty much everything.

Yesterday was... Well, it was less than thrilling. 

Didn't blog, to the world's dismay.

Went to the Tag Office to renew my tag.

Aired up a flat tire.

Yeah, exciting stuff.

Please tell me that your day was more exciting than mine?

What's funny, though, is that the day could've been a lot more memorable. Unfortunately, I have a lot of suck in me and missed a few opportunities.

(Read: I missed a lot of opportunities.)

I didn't blog, which would've been a chance (hopefully) to brighten someone's day. I'm still fighting some doubt about my writing abilities, and I let those consume that opportunity without a second thought.

Later, I begrudgingly dragged myself to the Tag Office. I got my number (which was #9, and #5 was up when I arrived there) and proceeded to sit by the ticket machine, where I could've easily made someone's day by handing them my number and taking their as they walked in. The five minute wait wouldn't have killed me.

I left the Tag Office, opportunity missed, and drove down the street to air up our stubborn flat tire. It only goes flat about once every 10 days or so. I pulled up and had to wait on a man who was airing the tire. Now, I like to think that I'm not ageist, but the guy I was waiting on was older, and I'm guessing he could've used my help. Those air pumps are not meant to be operated by a single person, let alone a single person over the age of 60.

Opportunity missed.

My suck level hit a whole new high yesterday.

It makes me wonder, though: what opportunities have I already missed today?

Should I have blogged earlier so that somebody could start their day off on a high note? 

Has my attitude consumed any "Tag Office" opportunities today?

Have I let my fear of embarrassment keep me from making someone else's day a little easier?

Here's to hoping that we can all suck a little less today than we did yesterday.