Hebrew Bible and Christian Scriptures

1. After seeing the fireworks over Pretoria to ring in the new year, we enjoyed a fantastic breakfast at our hotel. The afternoon consisted of hanging out at an school in Mamelodi, building some desks for the preciouses that would start school there the next day. The evening was spent watching the sun set from the steps of the Union Building and drinking in the beauty of Pretoria.

2. A lazy morning over breakfast and then some time spent back at the school doing some organizing. We spent the afternoon working our way through the Apartheid Museum. We learned much, but walked away with more questions.

3. We made the long drive to Pilanesburg National Game Park to go on safari! After checking into our chalet (read: split level cabin), we explored our hotel which was essentially a South African KOA.

4. SAFARI! After waking up at 4am to see giraffes (mission accomplished), we made our way (accidentally) to Pilanesburg Las Vegas and laughed our way through the afternoon at the pervasiveness of commercialism.

5. We did our own drive-through-safari (during which Amy was the best driver ever) and saw RHINOS! Then we drove back to Pretoria and settled into Pure Joy Lodge, our home for the duration of the conference.

6. The International Association of the Study of Youth Ministry (IASYM) Bi-Annual Conference officially began with a keynote speech on the barriers between South Africa and reconciliation.

7. Best paper of the day was about the role of the Dutch Reformed Church in the continuing cycle of racism within white, Afrikaner society.

8. Second time through the apartheid museum meant some questions answered and even more to ask. Also had the privilege of listening to a wise Afrikaner man talk about the sins of his fathers in a way that brought me hope for the future of his country and mine.

9. The last keynote of the conference was on the global forces threatening the potential of adolescents worldwide and it presented ideas I’ll be chewing on for a while to come. That evening, the epic journey back to Waco began with standing in line for 3 hours in Johannesburg to find out we would eventually be stranded in Atlanta.

10. Landed in ATL at 7:30 to stand in line for 3 hours to see when we could leave. After being told that flights would not leave for Philly until the 11th or 12th, we found seats on an Amtrak train to Trenton. To get to the Amtrak station from the airport, we took the MARTA and then walked 1.5 miles (wearing flip-flops and TOMS across solid ice) to catch the train.

11. 16 hours later, we arrived in Trenton and I was rarely so happy to take a shower. We thought our flight to Waco would leave on the 12th at 8am, but Snowpocalypse Part 2 had different ideas. Flight canceled and we got bumped to the 13th at 7am.

12. Spent the surprise snow day with Brother-in-Law catching up on television we missed during our adventure and spending extra time with my precious parents.

13. After the typical ridiculousness it requires to fly from Philly to Waco, I sat in my living room so glad to be in one place.

14. My last first day of class, ever. Strange.

15. At 2:45 in the afternoon, I pressed ‘send’ on my PhD application and my hernia began to develop. We then went to go see The Fighter, for which Christian Bale deserves every award he is given.

16. The afternoon was spent seeing The King’s Speech, for which Colin Firth deserves every award he is given and it may also be one of my favorite movies of all time. Seriously.

17. Celebrated MLK Day by visiting the dentist. I also started my morning with my annual reading of Letters from a Birmingham Jail and ended the day with the first Onion gathering of 2011.

18. Watched television, read books, drank coffee, laughed with favorites. Rhythms of the semester.

19. Talked about Erasmus and satire in class. One of the reasons I will enduringly love Truett will be the fact that my professor referenced Colbert Report during a class on Reformation theology.

20. I taught my very first class – well, proctored. It was a strange and humbling experience.

21. We spent T&T2 watching Luther, the movie with Joseph Fiennes. I left with two thoughts: 1) I wanted to watch Shakespeare in Love and 2) Luther needed a social worker

22. Saturdays in grad school seem to be constantly spent doing homework. With the exception of a lovely walk in the morning, this Saturday was no exception.

23. Lunch with a favorite and homework in the afternoon. Watched a documentary that evening that made me feel horrible about life, so followed it up with Big Bang Theory.

24. Had the privilege of having a great lunch with a professor-turned-friend who helped me dream about my future and make plans for it. Then spent the rest of the day reading about religious violence and spent the evening with the Onion.

25. I had a life-giving conversation with a mentor, once again about my future and how he has committed to help me prepare for it. I spent my afternoon watching The People Speak, a live-stage performance piece based on Howard Zinn’s The People’s History of the United States.

26. Mom arrived for a brief visit and there was much rejoicing in the land!

27. Spent the morning running errands with Mom and the afternoon hanging with Bucket.

28. Was reminded yet again that my people are unbelievably fantastic.

29. Spent the day ignoring work and watching Doctor Who. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon.

30. Had some great phone calls with favorites and found out my application to Queen’s was put through to the second round and all further communication would come via mail. Therefore I am watching my mail like a slightly crazy person.

31. Read Luther and actually chuckled a few times. This is a version of a victory.

So, in light of my post yesterday about knowing both sides of every story, I present to you this article on Pastor Ted Haggard, found in GQ and written by the guy who wrote this.

I want to say up front that I am not a fan of Haggard’s for any number of reasons, including some comments he made to the general assembly of NYWC this past November. I find his theology to be far away from mine and his orthopraxy to be wanting. I join some of his congregants in registering their skepticism that his honesty is true.

All that being said, I swore to know both sides of stories and here’s a great opportunity to hear Haggard’s.

There are sensational things in here about his sexual proclivities that is being buzzed about on the internet – what he did with whom and so on and so forth – but I am not interested in those. I am interested in how he talked about his church. I quote:

Ted’s true sore spot, the thing that drains the life from his voice, is the way he and Gayle were treated by their church in the wake of the scandal. “Here I was, feeling like I’d wasted my life,” Ted says. “And they just sent me away.”When Ted resigned from New Life, a board of church-appointed overseers presented him with a separation agreement that required him to cut off all contact with members of the church, stay away from the media, perform no ministry-related work, and move his family out of Colorado. As severance, the church would provide fourteen months’ salary for him and Gayle (about $200,000) and assorted other benefits. Ted obediently signed the agreement, but he now believes it was excessively harsh treatment for a family in the midst of a major crisis—especially since, well, isn’t providing mercy for sinners sort of the entire point of Christianity?

As Roose rightly points out in the following paragraph, this has been Haggard’s party line since the incident. Many congregants at New Life – including acquaintances of mine – have been interviewed saying they took the only action they knew how to heal from the abuses he bestowed upon them. I do not want to take away from that reality or the fact that those people felt completely betrayed by their spiritual leader. And perhaps that monologue is just as two-faced as his critics believe. Or perhaps it’s not that simple. I have no idea.

Having multiple sides of the story does not mean that any situation is black and white. There is hurt on both sides and pain on all sides and deep damage. I felt my heart go out to Haggard’s family – especially his children – and his wife as I read this article. There are no guidebooks to surviving public disgrace and I deeply hope they had and have community around them to help them reconstruct.

I don’t have any grand conclusions from this different than my last post. It’s also not the only event which has happened in my life recently to remind me that all sides of stories deserve their due, regardless of how angry or nauseous or indignant any particular side makes me. So I offer this example of potential dissonance to you, my readers. Do with it what you will.

I spent a few hours this afternoon watching The People Speak, which is a film version of Howard Zinn’s unbelievably fantastic book The People’s History of the United States. If I am ever in a position to teach United States history, I will use this movie.

I steal the summary from Amazon:

Inspired by historian Howard Zinn’s “A People’s History of the United States,” a slate of top performers takes the stage to recreate the voices of American history’s most eloquent dissenters, many of whom are excluded from traditional history books. The words of slaves, authors, politicians, poets, protesters and others come to life, courtesy of a cast that includes Don Cheadle, Sean Penn, Sandra Oh, Marisa Tomei, Benjamin Bratt and many more.

For anyone unfamiliar with Zinn’s landmark work, the book is a collection of those often left out of history. The conquered, the disenfranchised, the maligned. There are voices of women, slaves, Native Americans, immigrants and others – the viewpoints which are often left out of our published history books.

I have many thoughts on the specific themes of the soliloquies – specifically Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I A Woman” performed by Kerry Washington – but I’d like to make this comment as I let the final words of the film sink into my soul : we are far too comfortable to allow history to be written by the winners.

What would it look like to dedicate ourselves to exploring the viewpoints and stories of those who have been ignored? If we – as people of faith and/or specifically Americans who clothe ourselves in the Bill of Rights – believe strongly in the inherent dignity of all persons, why are we content to settle for assumptions and stereotypes about entire people groups?

May we, may I, continue to search for the truth – however hidden she may be. May we continue to strive for the whole picture of each puzzle, may we constantly fight for a place for everyone at the table, may we always remember that humans are kaleidoscopes of stories and each deserves respect.

thanks to jess for this:

the below image is a ethos statement for Holtsee, a company committed to providing sustainable products. my friend jess posted it on her blog with a question about the personal ethos statements of her readers and if they have any. i pose the same.

do you have a credo or a statement of purpose?

1. After posting my last NaBloPoMo post, I found out that I won a prize, handmade Christmas cards from another blogger. What a delightful surprise!

2. Last day of misisons classes. Bittersweet day, since I walked out of Truett at 2:30 having completed the missions concentration. My conversations next semester will be different – good, but different. I took a little moment to hug some people and thank them for the journey.

3. Last day of classes for the semester. Talked about Revelation (not plural, or Dr. Still will get angry) and then returned home to ignore the finals I was supposed to start writing.

4. The Waco favorites and I gathered at a local restaurant who claimed to have the best brunch in town. After deciding they were wrong, we bought the makings of mimosas and muffins and spent the rest of the day creating our own food. We also saw Tangled that afternoon and LOVED IT. Seriously, see it right now.

5. I started my guest posting for advent and remembered how hard it is to get people to return emails sometimes. We also found out that Werth was going to the Nationals, which made me a little sad.

6. Worked on finals, read some of a novel I’d been wanting to get back to since paper season started and basked in the light of my tree.

7. Celebrated Bucket’s birthday with Elmo cake and Glee on the radio

8. Indian food for lunch. Always fantastic.

9. Full day of finals and my last conversations with some graduating favorites. Also, the Community stop motion animated Christmas special was unspeakably hilarious.

10. A far away favorite came to town for the weekend and it was excellent to catch up with her.

11. Breakfast at Cafe Cap, lunch at Sam’s, afternoon matinee… all in all a fantastic Saturday.

12. Had the privilege of helping throw a baby shower for some favorites. This included making cake balls for the first time ever and they appear to have turned out successfully (with much help from favorites!)

13. Attempted to organize my life post-semester and ended up making book lists for my independent studies and then watched Barney give away his favorite things on How I Met Your Mother.

14. Last final of my last missiology class. Celebrated by having adventures with a favorite and watching silly movies. Also, Cliff came home.

15. Annual Onion Christmas and White Elephant exchange. Much hilarity ensued, although we were down two members due to illness. Best thoughts from the night is that I now can see Russia through a paperweight, sister got her new favorite book and we remembered that the Irish potato farmers were always poor.

16. Packed a bit, bought the last few gifts I had left to purchase and began to realize that it was less than two weeks until I leave the country again

17. Hung out with Bucket and Mop (Bucket’s little sister, clearly). Also had cookies from the Olive Branch for dessert and that made it a very good night.

18.Watched several documentaries as I cleaned the house and packed for Christmas break. I highly recommend The Lottery – about the broken system of charter school lotteries

19. A day full of hope and truth – both of which had been absent for a little while

20. Flights home and drinks with a long-time favorite. Welcome back to Bucks County.

21. Annual trip to Peddler’s Village with Mom to see the gingerbread houses, window shop for useless gifts and eat lunch at our special restaurant. We found some fun gifts for favorites but also stumbled upon an Irish shop selling proper chocolate. Miracle. The evening was capped off by collecting a social work favorite from the train station for an overnight visit.

22. Favorite and I explored New Hope, purchased bangles and dreamed of possible futures. Our visit was much too short, but aren’t all visits with favorites?

23. Caught the Septa train down to Philly to grab a quick lunch with another favorite. We gabbed and dreamed over chocolate fondue and pints of cider. This particular favorite and I are hoping to both be in Belfast for the next several years, so I’ll confess much of the conversation centered around that.

24. Slow and lazy day capped off by the annual family Christmas Eve dinner at Washington Crossing Inn. This is the one time a year I get to eat duck since I am the only one in my family who likes it.

25. Christmas started eeeaarrrlly for me this year as a particularly nasty stomach bug greeted me at 3am. I know, delightful. So while the day was lovely and filled with family and gifts and other traditions, my precious family had to also put up with my nasty. They are fantastic.

26. Snowpocalypse gripped Bucks County! And by ‘snowpocalypse’, I mean ‘mild blizzard.” It was fun, however, to snuggle under blankets and watch old movies as the snow turned the back yard into a wonderland.

27. We continued in the spirit of the blizzard, not leaving the house until the evening. That night was Danish Family Christmas and, sadly, I did not get the nut this year, either.

28. Spent the day running errands and then made stew for the family. We all gathered to watch the Eagles and then switched to the Kennedy Center Honors somewhere in the 2nd quarter. Geez, that was bad football.

29. Bowl Day! Which clearly didn’t go so well… But saw Tangled again and took Mom this time. Awesome decision.

30. Ran around like crazy in the morning before boarding flights for South Africa in the afternoon. I, along with brother-in-law, will be spending the next ten days with some fantastic professors studying adolescents and reconciliation at a conference in Johannesburg.

31. If all goes according to plan, as you’re reading this, we’re somewhere over the Atlantic. We’ll land in the early evening and then head to a orphanage to ring in the new year with preciouses there.

(this is possibly the final entry in my guest series on christmas, advent and other such things. if you still want to write, please comment below. i’ll post it whenever you send it.)

cara jane – or ceej – loves bangles. and riding on camels. and abbreviations. and coffee. and being martin luther. and auburn. she really loves auburn. a fellow india traveler, cara jane has a deep and abiding love for the Kingdom and scripture and how their interplay is key for the future of the Church. her relationship with both constantly remind me i should be intentional with my own. her writings are completely worth your time and found at these are my thoughts.

I’ve noticed recently that I hate waiting. If my fancy drink at Starbucks takes longer than 2 minutes to make, I’m wondering why I didn’t just get brewed coffee. If I pull up to a yellow light and the car in front of me chooses to stop instead of hurry through it, I’m frustrated that I’m being forced to endure the red light. Check-out lines at grocery stores, drive-thru lanes at restaurants, ticket lines at movies… so much waiting!!

I’m not a big fan of spiritual waiting either. When I pray, I want to know the outcome immediately. When thinking about my future, I want to know now how God is eventually going to use the gifts he’s given me, the desires he’s instilled in me, the education I’ve received. When walking through seasons of grief or suffering, I want to know what is on the other side (if there is an other side?), to understand the purpose, to see the bigger picture rather than the miserable snapshot.

I think the reason waiting is so hard is that it involves a lack of control. If I had any control at all in the situation, I certainly wouldn’t be waiting. When I’m waiting, however, whether it be in the line at Starbucks or in the pain of grief, I find myself with ZERO control.

Advent is about waiting—but not the anxious, annoying type of waiting. Advent is about the eager, expecting type of waiting. It’s about HOPE. It’s about sitting on the edge of your seat to see what God is going to do. Like other times of waiting, though, it’s a time that requires a realization of my lack of control and a recognition of the one from whom and through whom and to whom are all things (Romans 11.36), the one who is before all things and in whom all things hold together (Colossians 1.17).

Why should I esteem him in such a way? How can I willingly admit my lack of control and trust him to be over all things well? Because this same one “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2.7). He humbled himself, entered the human situation, and experienced sorrow, grief, pain, loneliness, temptation, suffering.

We celebrate and are grateful for his first coming while patiently, eagerly, expectantly waiting for his second. Come, Lord Jesus.

I hope you all have enjoyed the guest posts this month. I had planned on writing more this particular season, but realized that most of my thoughts about advent were being echoed throughout those of my friends. I wrote a lot about advent and incarnation last December, so I am going to let those stand for now. However, I will offer some favorites, not only for this week, but for this entire season.

1. Pursuit of the Nut. For anyone who doesn’t know my family’s kind of ridiculous and yet completely awesome tradition involving nuts and pudding, please click here.

2. Stories and how this season inspires them. Starbucks has a sticker on their front doors right now which proclaims that stories are for sharing – I heartily agree.

3.Christmas tree ornaments : Ornaments are a huge part of my familial traditions surrounding Christmas. Each child is given an ornament each year which symbolizes a major event that year and then recently we’ve also been given ones from our favorite realms of popular culture. Last year, for instance, I got one of Harry Potter and one for my MSW graduation.

4. Christmas cookies. My mother is a cookie maker and Christmas is when she pulls out all the stops. Christmas simply isn’t Christmas without Danish Jam Cookies or Caramel Nut Bars.

5. Family. I really do love my family. My bio family is really fantastic – with all our quirks and ridiculousness. My formed family – flung across oceans and time zones – is pretty stupendous as well.

(part of my series on advent, christmas and other such things. i’ll continue to post these as people send them, so if you still want to contribute, don’t hesitate)

carl and i attended truett together, although carl graduated ahead of me. my first conversation with carl was about how he was teaching himself middle persian. i loved that it was specifically ‘middle’ persian.  one of the most brilliant people i’ve ever encountered, carl currently lives his life as a sustainable farmer in central texas. besides offering much wisdom on issues of theology and missiology, carl blogs about how both relate with ecology at song of hibernia.

Advent, as we often hear, is a time of hope.  To hope some the themes of peace, joy, and love, but the dominant theme is hope.  Hope can mean many things.  The advertisements that I see and hear during this season suggest that our greatest hope is that we may receive a particular gift.  The worst of these ads suggest that peace and joy, and perhaps even love, depend on the fulfillment of this hope.  Hope can also be a type of escape from overwhelming circumstances.  This is hope against hope.  It is found in those who manage to survive by pretending that things will get better, though all the evidence says otherwise.  One of these types of hope is confined to our circumstances and our own ability to control them.  The other is an attempt to escape our circumstances entirely.  The hope of Advent is something altogether different.

This type of hope is most clearly seen in what J.R.R. Tolkien called the eucatastrophe, a term he coined for what he said lies at the heart of the fairy story.  In an essay developed from a lecture on the topic of fairy stories he lamented that they are relegated to the nursery on the grounds that they are not serious and do not reflect real life.  Fairy stories, like much of Tolkien’s own work, have been maligned as escapist, but Tolkien contended that they hit reality head-on.  Like more “realist” literature, which tends toward tragedy, fairy stories put their heroes through trials and have them suffer.  By way of events outside the heroes’ control and despite their best efforts, both the tragedy and the fairy story lead to catastrophic defeat.  That is where the tragedy ends.  There may be something positive to take away, perhaps a lesson learned by those in the story who witness the tragedy, but these are like crumbs that fall from the table.  In the fairy story the moment of catastrophe is averted by an unexpected grace.  This is the eucatastrophe (using the Greek prefix eu-, meaning good).  It is not a cheat, not a deus ex machina (though it may be that in a badly-written fairy story).  It is not an escape from the harsh realities of life.  The grace only works because it is unexpected.  It is not the way things normally work.  That is what makes it a moment of grace.  If the tragedy tells us how bad life can get, the fairy story tells us that it does not always end that way.  The fairy story is a story of hope that is neither escapist nor self-reliant.

This aspect of the fairy story is illustrated perfectly by one of this year’s holiday film releases, Disney’s Tangled.  (Warning:  this paragraph contains spoilers.)  At the climax Flynn lies dying, and Rapunzel has the power to save him with her magic hair.  The only way she can get the witch to allow it is to pledge to be her willing slave forever.  Flynn does not want his life bought with such a price.  He is willing to give up his life for her chance of freedom, but it would be freedom in a world without him.  She is willing to give up her freedom forever to keep him alive with no chance of them ever being together.  It appears to be a classic tragedy.  Flynn manages to alter the situation slightly by cutting off Rapunzel’s hair, freeing her from the witch’s control, but assures his own death in the process.  What would have been tragedy is turned to the eucatastrophe of the fairy story by the grace of the power of healing.  It had been lost in the cutting of the hair, but makes an unexpected appearance in the shedding of a tear.  The use of the tear as a vehicle of grace is most appropriate.  Rather than being escapist, and fixing the problem as if it had never happened, grace appears in the midst of suffering and grief.  Rapunzel does not emerge unscathed, either.  Her hair does not magically grow back to restore everything to the way that it was.  With the one exception of the special moment of grace, her gift of healing is lost forever.

Tolkien wrote of the Incarnation as the eucatastrophe of human existence.  It is a moment of wild, unexpected grace that diverts humanity from our reckless tumble toward a tragic fate.  Rather than promising an escape from our circumstances, God enters our world and shares our existence.  While most fairy stories are signposts that remind us that grace is a possibility even in the darkest of circumstances, there is nothing in them to assure us that our situation will not be one of those tragedies.  The Incarnation is different.  Here it is the Creator of the universe writing the fairy story directly into history.  This is our own story; not simply the story of humanity, but the story of all creation.  No matter how bad our story may look, in the end hope has the final word.

We begin Advent looking toward the return of the very embodiment of that hope:  the one who has conquered death, and still bears bears the marks of his suffering, his refusal to take the easy way out.  We go through Advent hearing about swords being beaten into ploughshares, wolves and lambs eating together, deserts being turned into lush paradises, arriving finally at the act of God taking on flesh and entering into our predicament.  He enters in abject poverty, in a family far from home.  He begins life as a refugee, fleeing from a powerful man who kills even his own sons to protect his position, and thinks nothing of wiping out all the children of a small village.  The promise has been made, but even in our own time the lambs still have to flee the wolves.  Ploughshares are still being beaten into swords.  Fertile land is being turned into deserts.  The world around us appears to be heading for a tragic end.  But that baby in the feed trough in the stable is the thing we least expect.  This is the grace that changes the way the story will end from catastrophe into a happily-ever-after.  And so we hope.

(this is part of my guest series on christmas, advent and other such things. if you’d like to contribute – even if you send it after christmas – let me know in the comments below.)

i met dustin about a year ago in class, but got to know him while we were teammates in india. the universe decided we should be friends, so it saw fit to have us sit next to each other on every single flight and then for both of us to get pneumonia in jaipur. for once, i am thankful for the universe’s meddling. i can honestly say that dustin is my polar opposite in about a thousand ways, but also one of my favorite people at truett. he blogs at a fire in my bones.

Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and even the days we lost loved ones.  Spring cleaning, fall festivals.  There is something about the yearly cycle that means something to us.  Every year seems like the right interval to celebrate and recollect, to discuss what has happened over the year and be thankful for it, or to resolve something new for the year (or in actually, the week) to come.  When it starts to get colder, I’m reminded of how much I love pajamas and sweaters and hot chocolate and movies.  When Spring rolls around and it starts getting warmer I remember how much I love the outdoors, and how much I want to play Ultimate Frisbee with the folks from college, or else get back on the volleyball court with seminarians.   As summer starts I remember being on a lifeguard stand,  considering what to do that evening, and having absolutely no responsibility.  When it gets hot—like so hot your face melts off—I remember Kuwait, and I remember a different life-stage altogether.  When it gets hot and humid next year and I sweat my soul out of my pores, I’m sure I will think of India and what it means to encounter a whole new culture.  The annual cycle, the year means something to us.

A few years back, as Easter was approaching, I started thinking about other traditions have this whole week where they consider the resurrection, and I started to wonder about the first of its kind.  What it must have been like from Friday through Sunday morning.  And now I do that kind of thinking annually.

I once heard a preacher, for whom I have a great deal of respect, say that Christmas was important almost entirely because it paves the way for Easter.  I think he’s completely wrong.  There is something about the Incarnation that cannot be subsumed into the Easter story.  The coming of God With Us cannot be reduced to a preposition in the sentence of the life of Christ.  Something changes in the Incarnation; something is made new.  Christ’s life is not simply summarized in his death and resurrection—that just makes him the best zombie story of all time.  No, there is more to his life, his concern for the physically crippled, the fiscally impoverished, the psychologically suffering.  His taking on of flesh is a pivotal event in the history of the κοσμος.

So what would it be like to remember the Advent for Advent’s sake.  Christ had not yet come.  The people existed under a system of oppression by a military power, and many gave their lives in futile attempts to throw off the dominating power, but to no avail.  That something was broken was apparent.  They were waiting even if they didn’t know for what, or until when.  The signs were vague, and the descriptions were translucent at best.  They did not even know that the time was upon them, that their day was pregnant with meaning,  so they waited… and waited… and waited.  This year I’m practicing waiting.  They waited for the first coming, and we wait for the second.  But I am practicing waiting like they did so I can know how to wait like I should.

Waiting is not passive.  It is not a mere resignation that something might happen… eventually.  Waiting and hoping in Scripture are inseparably joined.  And so as Zechariah did, as Mary did, as my friends-recently-turned-fathers did, we wait.  We wait expectantly, and expect hopefully, for this adventure we are assigned is pregnant with promise.

(this is part of my guest series on christmas, advent and other such things. if you’d like to contribute, comment below)

a hallmark movie, a genocide museum and an exceptionally shady taxi: these are things which make up the beginning of my friendship with lindsay. we traveled to kenya and rwanda together a few years ago and a bond was formed. she has since graduated from baylor with a master’s degree in religion, politics and culture and moved onto life in denver, colorado. a true southern belle in so many ways, linds is also a rebel at heart. also, her family is a bit baylor obsessed. she blogs at through the linz.

If you know me at all, you know that I love words. If I could give certain words a hug, I would. Not a wimpy little side hug; a lingering, almost uncomfortable, full frontal hug. That’s how much I love words.

When Kristen asked if I would write a guest post for her Advent series, I immediately agreed … and then realized that I had no clue what to write. I was, quite literally, at a loss for words. THE HORROR. So I decided my best bet was to start from the beginning – with the word.

Advent. A coming into a place, view, or being. An arrival.

It’s not often that we hear the word “advent” used outside of this specific period of the liturgical calendar, not often that we use this word to describe anything outside of the coming of Christ into our world. But when I went back to the definition of this word, this amazing and completely underused word, my heart swelled and a lump formed in my throat. Let me explain.

Although I had already lived in Denver for six months at this time last year, I was not living in Denver. I was still the new kid in town, still an outsider, still painfully lonely. I continued to refer to Waco as “home” and felt as though I was on some weird, extended business trip in some random city. It was a very dark time in my soul and it felt like it would never end.

But then, almost all of a sudden, things changed. I came into being in Denver. I arrived. Advent.

In the blink of an eye, Denver became my city. I began participating in all that Denver offered. Really, I began participating in LIFE again. And you know what? Once I arrived in Denver, once this advent occurred, I found community. People who love me, check in on me, and drive me to the doctor when I’m sick and can’t drive myself. People who push me to expand my horizons, who take me where I haven’t been, who encourage me to be better than I am. People who have become my people, my adopted family.

Needless to say, I’m a fan of this “advent” word. Because no matter how you look at this word, no matter how religious you are or are not, advent is hopeful and wonderful and painfully beautiful.

And I am thankful.