Hebrew Bible and Christian Scriptures

(this is a part of my series on advent. if you’d like to contribute, comment below.)

i first met bethany in the fall of 2001, when we were but freshman in college. over the next four years and some particularly ridiculous nicknames, she became a deep and true part of my life. when i moved to waringstown, bethany was my most faithful pen pal and i squealed with joy when one of her decorated envelopes dropped through my post box. since my return to the states our lives have moved in very different directions, but her wisdom and grace still reign strong in my life. we both love music and musicals, gilmore girls and adventure.

photo credit: gjeewaytee on and off

We have reached the first weekend in December, and already the verbal wishes are flying: “Merry Christmas,” “Happy New Year,” “Have a joy-filled holiday,” etc. The radio stations are blaring “Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas,” and every window display has a grinning Santa. While I would never wish anyone a miserable Christmas, I feel that sometimes the worldly expectation of happiness overshadows our ability to celebrate the season of Advent, which is a time of preparation. We are preparing for the joyful celebration of the birth of Christ, but it doesn’t mean that we must or should be exclusively happy during the time of preparation.

The Israelites certainly didn’t feel constant happiness while they waited for the Messiah. Their aching cries for deliverance can be heard over and over in the Old Testament and even in our familiar Christmas carols (“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”). And many people today have difficulty commanding themselves to be happy during the month of December while they suffer from depression, eating disorders, addictions, abuse, and the loss of loved ones.

A year ago at this time, my husband and I were trying for our second child. I was certain to the depths of my soul that, even though we hadn’t had a positive pregnancy test yet, we would be a family of four by the following Christmas. When we woke up on Christmas morning, Tim leaned over and whispered to my stomach, “Merry Christmas, baby.” The positive pregnancy test came a few days later, but our joy lasted less than two weeks due to an early miscarriage. God has since blessed us with the gift of another pregnancy, but for me the coming of this season has also brought feelings of pain and loss; last December, I was expecting not only baby Jesus, but my own baby as well. God has done miraculous work in my heart since that time, and I have been able to minister to other women who have lost children, but the preparation of my heart for His work is not always easy, and it is certainly not always happy.

Thus far Advent has been, for me, a time of joy and reverence rather than happiness.  My favorite definition for reverence is “profound, adoring, awed, respect.” Reverence for Joseph as he trusted God to care for a child that wasn’t “his”; reverence for Mary as she traveled long miles and delivered her baby in a barn, far away from her family; reverence for the wise men who had such a sure faith that they not only traveled to seek the King but had the depth of understanding to know what gifts would suit Him best. And above all of this, reverence for a God who would send His Son into the world to walk beside us in the midst of pain, loss, poverty, and longing in order to bring us closer to Himself.

Other than Christ’s return, there can be no greater joy than His coming, so I WILL wish you a very merry Christmas. However, I will also wish that you feel the level of adoration that Mary felt as she held her newborn baby for the first time and the awe of the shepherds as throngs of angels fill the sky. This Christmas, may you be filled with reverence.

“This Flower, whose fragrance tender, with sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor the darkness everywhere;
True man, yet very God, from sin and death He saves us
And lightens every load.”

(this is the first in my series of guest posts on advent. if you’d like to participate, comment on this post.)

my friend suzanne is brilliant. no, really. she is. this is evidenced not only by the fact that she graduated as the truett female student of the year, but also by the fact she is working on a master’s degree at oxford university (perhaps you’ve heard of it.) we met years ago in a fairly dysfunctional life-group and then slowly began to do life together in beautiful ways. a founding member of the onion, there is a definitive suzanne-shaped hole in our waco lives. she blogs at aurora’s torch.

The morning air is cold today. So cold, it crystallizes into foggy puffs at every exhale. The snow drifts slowly to the ground and the lights of the observatory create a yellow haze in the gray dawning light. It is quiet and I smile as I hear the crunch of the snow under my boots. They had predicted a cold winter, and as assumed the unseasonably warm autumn gave way into a frigid winter with snow blanketing the entire country, grinding transportation to a halt and delaying flights. Nevertheless, there is something about a first snowfall that clings to my mind and heart. Things are quiet. Life seems to slow down for just an instant and with wonder I loose myself in the peaceful respite I find in the silently falling snow.

With similar awe I find myself standing quietly in advent this year. The expectant hope of God becoming human settles in my thoughts with a comfort and nearness I have not felt in many years. For the first time in a long time, I can feel God funnelling all the brilliance and glory into this one single moment and all I can do is stand in wonder. God with us. The power of something new, of something that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, but hovers at the horizon of my hope makes life slow and the full power of the event sweep over my soul. God drawing near; God wearing skin; God walking among us.

The magnitude of this should be the impact of an avalanche whiting out my mind, but it is not violent or soul shattering this season. Instead the idea of God with us is a quiet, peace filled moment, like experiencing a first snowfall, silently watching unique little miracles pile up, covering the withered life of the past. For me, this advent I am experiencing the daily miracles of hope pile up, covering the withered life of my past. The dead dreams and hopes, the unmet expectations and assumptions, the horror and sadness, the loss and pain, the disillusionment and disappointment are quietly covered in the silently falling snow of incarnated hope. Things look beautiful again, clean, innocent, happy. I find myself standing quietly in advent with hope drifting into my heart, knowing that God is restoring a battered faith and creating new life. My cynicism and bitterness lessen daily as I remember how to hope and how to embrace that hope.

Semesters in grad school are exhausting. We can use all sorts of sports metaphors – marathon, world series of academia, etc. – but the important thing to understand is that one is never really finished until final grades are posted. Thus, rest and victory must be claimed after major obstacles because if you waited until the very end of each semester to find pieces of peace you would never rest.

I say all of that tonight to say that I just cleared one of the largest hurdles of the semester : two research papers due on the same day for the same professor. After multiple edits and several editors, both papers are as ready as they are going to be and I will submit my offering tomorrow. I will then have a few days of brief rest before the last hurdle of this semester – final exams.

Tonight, however, I am resting in the beauty of hitting the “print” button by slowly sipping my tea and enjoying some mindless television. Thanks to How I Met Your Mother and Chuck for helping with the emotion detox process.

A good Thanksgiving episode of a television show is one of my favorite things. So, in response to this particular bought of insomnia, I thought I’d post some clips for your enjoyment. Before I begin, let me state I am limited by what I could find on YouTube, so please post your nominations in the comment section.

First up, a few selections from West Wing.

Now, onto Friends

And, lastly, Gilmore Girls

~*~

happy thanksgiving from pop-culture land, readers.

1. nothing is more exciting this week than the fact that Elizabeth Keliah has graced us with her presence! it was a high honor to be a small part of the process of her transition from womb to world and one I will never forget. I love this family and who they are in my life.

2. the fact that as this posts I am in Nashville recruiting for Truett. the recruiting is not as exciting as seeing favorites I have not seen in a while.

3. Parenthood is the best show on TV you’re not watching. I’d recommend starting immediately.

4. Harry. Potter. Or I should say the anticipation of the movie, which releases TODAY but I probably won’t see until I’m back in Waco.

5. getting hand-written letters in the mail. i have a beloved who is not tech-connected for the next few seasons and to write back and forth to him is becoming one of my favorite daily rituals.

~*~

special shout-out to my favorite baby brother today who turns twenty-four! he’s definitely also a favorite.

photo one: me in first grade:

photo two: me in year five of grad school:

::

I want to assure you of two things : 1) my love for dressing up has not waned 2) neither has my love for princess movies

(the prompt was for one pictures of you ten years ago and one picture of you from the last ten months)

Today’s prompt involves favorite things, 20 of them, to be precise. Ironically, this was the day I finally got around to watching Oprah’s Sound of Music special and Sarah and I sang loudly along. So, without further adieu and in no particular order, I present to you twenty of my favorite things.

phillies, clearly. specifically in their world championship incarnation, but i’m not picky

 

 

 

 

 

passport stamps, plane tickets and the adventure they represent

 

 

 

 

 

the onion. love these people.

netflix brings happiness via my mailbox

autumn. i love autumn and how it’s the season that forces me to let calm invade my soul

 

 

 

 

 

 

clinque makes being a girl significantly more ethical and easier. it does not make it cheaper.

eucharist and how family is represented in food

i’m going to let the central perk gang be a stand-in for all of my television favorites because if i listed them all, i’d seem increasingly pathetic. but “friends” is always funny, always healing and makes any day better. definitely a favorite.

clearly, northern ireland. no matter how frustrated i get with her, she is in my soul.

birthday week theme parties. love, love.

books. books are seriously favorites.

truett. even on days where it drives me crazy, i am so thankful for the gifts it has given me

chipotle is my favorite national chain, hands down.

eating healthy food and being a healthy person. both are still relatively new concepts to me and are definitely favorites.

the competition for the nut. one of the most ridiculous things about my family and one of my favorites

not just my iPhone (although it is pretty fantastic) but the ability to stay connected with far away friends. i love modern communication and am so thankful for it.

game nights with favorites

cheering for home teams in championships

dreaming of possible futures

hope

…yes, i know this post is overdue. however, birthday celebrations will continue until this saturday, so there’s that…

Birthday always serve as markers for me. While the favorites gleefully bestowed their birthday week gifts upon me over this past week, I spent a lot of time wondering how my twenty-seventh year should be different than my twenty-sixth.

To be honest, twenty-six was pretty fantastic. I celebrated New Year’s in the middle of the Caribbean, danced at an Indian wedding, ate dim sum in Hong Kong and witnessed baptisms in Medellin. I found new and beautiful definitions of family, strength and community. I had the privilege of sitting around the table at Truett and discussing deep wisdom with some fellow travelers and took huge steps towards defining my life calling. There were some serious bumps along the way, complete with scars and bruises, but I would never trade (most of) this past year for anything.

I have ruminated about it on this blog before, but I wonder what my adolescent self would think of my adult self. On my seventeenth birthday, I was living in Yardley and dealing with my senior year at Pennsbury. I was juggling work, school, theater, music, friends, youth group and stuffing them all into my hopes and dreams for the future. I thought I knew exactly what life would look like, how I would get where I want to go, so on and so forth. Very little of that life came to pass. While I have no idea what 17-year-old Kristen would have thought of 27-year-old Kristen, I can honestly say that 27-year-old Kristen is pretty proud of herself. Growth, maturity, hope and change have been themes of my time in Waco and I am sure they will not cease to be in this last year.

Over the past ten years, there are some detours I never thought I would take. Some have turned out to be not detours at all, but re-directions. Wonderful, life-giving, re-directions. It’s taken me several years to realize that most of the strands of passions in my life really can work together towards a viable profession. Amazing.

So, here’s to year twenty-seven. Hopefully, it’ll include a graduation, a few more international trips and a student visa. I know it will also include laughter and seasons of love, tears and mourning, grace and hope.

Here’s to road trips with favorites and coffee dates with new friends. Here’s to leaning into Waco for one final year and checking things off my Texas Bucket List. Here’s to ridiculous pictures and Glee sing-alongs. Here’s to theme parties, game nights and merriment. Here’s to the Bloomin’ Onion. Here’s to grace, hope and love. Here’s to twenty-seven.

thank you, michael, for this glorious shot taken at sunrise

Really, all there is in Agra is the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort. Because when those two things are in a city, why would you focus on anything else? This post will be largely pictures. Also, the Taj is just as impressive as you think it is. There are things in life that are underwhelming because the hype overtakes the reality. However, the Taj is not one of them. It was incredible to stand there and gawk at the incredible structure. The detail is fantastic and the symmetry is striking.

We’re almost at the end of our recaps of India – only one city left, friends! Stay tuned for the last round of temples and forts: or, our time in delhi

This is the entrance gate to the Taj. Yeah, just the entrance.

THE TAJ MA-FREAKING-HALL! I happened to be walking in next to Stroope and I looked at him and shrieked. He just laughed.

Side view

Detail work on the Taj

These are the pieces that make up the detail work on the Taj. And each of those pieces are made up of several pieces. DETAIL.

What the Taj looks like backlit

Obligatory picture

Clearly, my turn

Me and Stroope

Architecture at Red Fort

Another shot taken by Michael on his early morning adventure

Me and Michael in front of the Taj

Pictured above is the Mango Tree Temple, nestled inside the massive temple in Kanchipuram. Our tour guide told us that this was the temple you went to worship at if you wanted a spouse, or if you had a spouse, you went to pray for children. Most of our marrieds stayed far away, but us single folk traipsed through in hope. You enter right here and then walk around the tree counter clock-wise. Once you reached the entrance again, you were met by a priest standing in front of an altar. He then sprinkled white power into your cupped hands and placed a blessing on your forehead. A pretty straight forward process.

Except, of course, for me.

I somehow got separated from the rest of the team and ended up in the middle of what I can only assume is the Indian version of the YaYa sisterhood. Giggling young women around my age surrounded me as I approached the priest. He asked my name and I replied, “Kristen.” He then placed the dust in my hand and replied, “Name.” Confused, I said, “Kristen.” Because, you know, that’s my name. One of the women crowded in next to me said, “No, he needs to know the name of the man you are to marry.” Confused and feeling a little bit snarky, I replied, “Zach Levi.” He then nodded, placed more dust in my hand and some on my forehead and I was sent on my way.

Thus, if I ever meet/marry Zach Levi, I’m converting.

(For anyone who doesn’t know, Zach is the star of the television awesomeness Chuck and is pictured here: )