Why "71º & Sunny?"

I consider 71º to be the perfect temperature. Not too cold and not too hot. I also love perfect sunny days. The vast majority of days are not 71º & Sunny and yet, all days were created by God's hand and they are still gifts, even if they don't fit my ridiculous definition of perfection. My struggle with OCD has at times imprisoned me in an impossible attempt to achieve perfection. I'm now learning to love all kinds of days that don't even come close to 71º & Sunny.

Please leave me a comment below. I really want to know what you are thinking!

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Wishing You a Real Christmas

So often, when people find out that I volunteer a significant amount of time at church, I can tell that they think it's a "nice" thing to do. Or that I must be really devoted to my "religion." Nah. What, or really, who, I am devoted to, is Jesus. Following Him is often not easy to do. I've had to make choices. I've had to, in essence, "draw lines in the sand" for myself. I do this because I believe with every fiber of my being that Jesus is real. He's not just a plastic figurine in a bundle of hay, laying on someone's front lawn for 4 weeks every December. He's more than a story. More than a memory. More than a myth.

Knowing this helps make sense of those stressful holidays, when the dinner is burned (or when a snowstorm knocks out the power and ruins your entire meal), or when you have to deal with that difficult relative again, or when a devastating and painful loss is amplified during this season that is supposed to be "the most wonderful time of the year." He's more than a memory. More than a myth.

I hope that you will find the joy and peace that comes from knowing the real One, the Holy One, the One that makes it all worthwhile. Jesus. Merry, blessed Christmas my friends.

"Real" by Nichole Nordeman

Frozen statues in the cold
Washed in moonlight, blue and gold
Mary's babe in plastic hay
Quiet wonder on her face
Mary you look so serene
Far too pretty, much too clean
We might think we know you well, but what stories would you tell?
Of all the dirt, and dust, and shame, every burning labor pain
And as I turn to walk away, I hear you say
I am real, don't turn me into memory or myth
Let me be real, real
And I'll show you what it means to love this
To be real

Shepherds bending to the ground, Bethlehem is safe and sound
Joseph, you look brave and true
But do we know what it was like to be you?
How many sleepless nights awake, found you desperate and afraid?
And as I turn to walk away, I hear you say
I am real, don't turn me into memory or myth
Let me be real, real
And I'll show you what it means to love like this

To love like you don't even care about the hurry and the hustle
Like you are unaware December comes with so much trouble
Cause you believe a Baby came, not in paintings or in plays
But every minute, every hour, every day
To be real
Real

You are real, real
Show us what it means to love like this
To be real, to be real
More than a memory, more than a story
Real

12 comments:

  1. You as well, dear Monique. Merry Christmas to you.

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  2. Replies
    1. Yes, I did, Tina! I sure hope you and Larry did too.

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  3. I trust you had a delightful Christmas. Thank you for this wonderful reminder.

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    1. You are very welcome, Lauren. You always have such lovely reminders on your blog that are much appreciated.

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  4. Wishing you a happy, peaceful 2015, Sunny.

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    1. Thank you Elizabeth! Happy New Year to you too. It's great to hear from you!

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