Staying Optimistic until Something Goes Wrong

I think there is something important about a person having their own space. Not everybody will own land and a house, but having a place that is available for retreat is something everyone needs to have. A place to get away. Mine is my room. It’s my comfort zone. Don’t put your feet on my pillow, they belong at the other end of the bed. Let’s not move everything around, I put it where it is, it belongs there. I have too much stuff, too many books, more clutter than I want, but it works for me. It isn’t that it’s messy, there’s just more stuff than you would expect encompassed in this amount of space. But to me, it is comfortable.

Outside the French doors to my room is a wholly different scenario. You see, in the wake of Christmas-time at the Brannon’s, there are, outside the house, a few patches of snow which prove our whitest Christmas since re-locating to Georgia, and inside the house, chaos. It seems that in return for time off from work, Brannon’s will, no matter the actual season, clean like it’s the spring. The new toys each has accumulated has left their new owner with two options, 1) stack the new version on top of the old version and call it a day or 2) reorganize everything so that it will all fit together nicely. For me, stacking a new pair of jeans on top of the old jeans is exactly what I’ve chosen to do, but when you end up with a new TV, I understand the need to reorganize a bit.

Anyway, it’s a bit chaotic around here. And to the point where my comfort zone is being threatened, and it’s… uncomfortable.

... but I'm listening to good music, and I'm almost to bed for the night. Staying positive.

Rejoice! Rejoice!

So today was Christmas. My last Christmas day post didn't have much to do with Christmas. This time around I'll stick to the subject. And so I rhetorically ask... "What's up with Christmas?"

There seems to be two schools of thought when answering this question. The first would not admit it in words, but in action, the answer would revolve around the commercialism of the holiday. Get together with family and give and receive stuff. The Grinch put it well…

That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's always been about. Gifts, gifts... gifts, gifts, gifts, gifts, gifts. You wanna know what happens to your gifts? They all come to me. In your garbage. You see what I'm saying? In your garbage. I could hang myself with all the bad Christmas neckties I found at the dump. And the avarice... The avarice never ends! "I want golf clubs. I want diamonds. I want a pony so I can ride it twice, get bored and sell it to make glue." Look, I don't wanna make waves, but this whole Christmas season is stupid, stupid, stupid!

We’ve heard the argument against commercialism often enough that we’ve developed a callous towards the excessive nature of our culture. So no need to keep going with that.

The other school of thought is that there is something more meaningful about this holiday. And so I’d like to place myself amongst this school of thinking, and not only that, to clarify what it is about Christmas that I find meaningful.

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”

For the entire course of history, before that first Christmas, the One, True God was all powerful, the perfect picture of love and peace, active among His creation… there was nothing missing. And on Christmas, He became GOD WITH US. And for me, especially this year, I’m seeing a huge difference between God and GOD WITH US.

(Temporary) Crisis of Direction

The "temporary" might be temporary, or the "temporary" might be permanent. I'd like to think the "temporary" will turn out to be a permanent, in which case this will all turn out to be temporary. So time will tell whether or not the "temporary" is necessary.
But all day today, I'm feeling like the plans I've put together for my future are under attack. I'm doubting much, sure of little... and wondering if I should understand this feeling as "temporary."