How I Killed Christmas

The liberals have not killed Christmas.

Nope, it wasn't the atheists either.


It was me.

Maybe it was you too.

I killed Christmas.

Christmas, a time for joyful celebration of God's provision, his purpose, and his power.  Christmas, a time for quiet reflection on Jesus' humble human birth, Mary's service to God, Joseph's patience, Shepherds worship, kings submission.  Christmas--the time that calls us to anticipate Jesus presence in our lives afresh.

Dead at the very hands of those who call it sacred.

I lived in denial for years.  I wouldn't do this.  I am a Christian, I want to keep the Christ in Christmas.  It was certainly someone else's agenda.  Not me.  No.

Yet I stand guilty.

Every moment my heart beat green with greed...

Every gift I gave with personal gain in mind...

Every time I uttered "Merry Christmas" while acting just like the Christless masses.

Death, by destroying the true purpose of Christmas.



Dear Christians, please listen to my plea.  This Christmas, let's not blame anyone for taking Christmas or destroying it.  Let's bring it back.  Join me.  Not by bemoaning our loss.

Not by yelling louder or posting about Christmas on Facebook, Twitter, or even Google+.

I suggest doing what Jesus did--loving to the point that you come into someone's life, and make it better.  Bring hope, mercy, forgiveness, and love.

Don't just read the Christmas story to your kids this year, put it into practice in your life.

"The Word became flesh, and made his dwelling among us"

Sunday Thanks: Arms Wide Open

I don't know if it was fear or professionalism that nearly killed me.

It doesn't matter.

For three years and some I have attended this church I love, worked with their youth, and served alongside some of the most wonderful people I could imagine. God has moved in this place, and in me. He has moved me through the youth--their events, but more so their heart and spirit. The service I have joined in has changed me dramatically. My views of poverty, need, love, work, humanity (and many other things) have been altered as I've invested in God's service through this community of faith.

I held myself back. Even with all the greatness of God flowing around this church, I held back in one area. It is an area of passion, an area that fills fire in my bones and can come over me like a the rushing of a waterfall drenching my self with God.

I had become a silent worshipper. Oh, I sang--many in the church do. My body was silent.

You see, from the time I was little, I couldn't sit still. I have always used my whole self to express my heart--voice, arms, body, legs, emotions, tears. Everything. But here, no. I had become stone still.

Fear, conformity, or professionalism--I don't have a clue.

But something in my spirit broke down the chains the past couple weeks. As the music rose, so did I to God in worship--not just a voice, but me. Expressing to Him my joy in my own ackward, uncomfortable, whole self way.

Standing tall, shouting out, tears streaming, and arms wide open.

Other Thanks for this week:

1. The raw reality of life bringing deep questions: One in the life of a youth at LCOC, the other from a great blog post.
2. Finding common ground.
3. Realizing the implication of the resurrection of Jesus.
4. Counting how long I can stay underwater (just like when I was six!)
5. Pool parties with pizza
6. Singing the wrong words to Disney songs
7. The power of God to create a living Word for us.