Lots of blather this year about who celebrates what and why - be it Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, yada, yada, yada. If you say, "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas", should I take offense?
Look, here's the deal as I see it. Just as it is my prerogative to accept Jesus Christ as my Savior and immerse myself in the celebration of His birth, it is certainly your right to do otherwise. I am neither judge or jury of my fellow man, and whatever faith or festivity you elect to observe during late December is not my business to criticize or condemn.
However, it IS my joy and privilege to tell you why I believe what I believe. God (as I understand Him) created this amazingly complex, beautiful and terrifying world, then added homosapiens who proceeded to immediately jack everything up. But He loved us and the world so much that He threw us a lifeline - a Son of both man and God, fully divine and fully human.
I believe, and I'm always ready and waiting to tell you why. I don't for one minute pretend that I understand it all, so don't expect me to have all the answers to your questions.
But I know who does, and I would love to introduce you to Him sometime if you haven't already met.
I wish you a Merry Christ-mas, and a 2012 full of hope.
31 December 2011
08 December 2011
Florid-duh, Part One
My company's corporate office is located in Florida, and as part of my new role, I now make frequent pilgrimages to the mothership.
So - I find myself in Florida. In a business suit. With a briefcase and a laptop. The irony is amusing at best.
If you were to inventory my life's catalogue of most egregious offenses, you would quickly conclude that I apparently misplace all morals and principles and good judgment when I cross the Florida state line. (I don't think I am not alone in this revelation.)
I started coming to FL as a little girl on vacation with my family. Sweet sunny summer days with sandcastles, the oddly endearing scent of Coppertone, and the promise of some type of shellfish as sustenance. Wave jumping and shell seeking and tide squatting until time to go in and shower. Sunshine and salty skin until late afternoon, then a great meal and a do-over on the horizon tomorrow.
Fast forward, past my parents divorce and my subsequent surge into adolescence and young adulthood. The beach, the ocean, the AWAY-ness of my Florida perspective became idyllic... I believed that Florida is where people go to be happy. Take that mindset, add alcohol and hormones, and you now have a crystal picture of my Florida experience, circa 1981-90.
Not spending time in that memory now. You have an imagination. Anyway, I only made it across I-10 once or twice per year, usually with a car load of like-minded "friends" in search of nirvana...be it alcohol, bikinis, drugs, sex, sunshine or an unholy subset of these hedonisms.
Apart from all that, the ocean kept YANKING on me, wanting my attention and reminding me that water has something to do with real and true peace. Not the drug or tequila kind, not the male attention kind...real true ribcage peace.
I developed a passion for scuba - maybe if I got INSIDE the ocean, I could understand why I get so much peace from it. Not just of the happy childhood family memory understanding, but of the scientific biological realization that I breathe easier, worry less and even exercise more in salt water.
Part 2 forthcoming...
So - I find myself in Florida. In a business suit. With a briefcase and a laptop. The irony is amusing at best.
If you were to inventory my life's catalogue of most egregious offenses, you would quickly conclude that I apparently misplace all morals and principles and good judgment when I cross the Florida state line. (I don't think I am not alone in this revelation.)
I started coming to FL as a little girl on vacation with my family. Sweet sunny summer days with sandcastles, the oddly endearing scent of Coppertone, and the promise of some type of shellfish as sustenance. Wave jumping and shell seeking and tide squatting until time to go in and shower. Sunshine and salty skin until late afternoon, then a great meal and a do-over on the horizon tomorrow.
Fast forward, past my parents divorce and my subsequent surge into adolescence and young adulthood. The beach, the ocean, the AWAY-ness of my Florida perspective became idyllic... I believed that Florida is where people go to be happy. Take that mindset, add alcohol and hormones, and you now have a crystal picture of my Florida experience, circa 1981-90.
Not spending time in that memory now. You have an imagination. Anyway, I only made it across I-10 once or twice per year, usually with a car load of like-minded "friends" in search of nirvana...be it alcohol, bikinis, drugs, sex, sunshine or an unholy subset of these hedonisms.
Apart from all that, the ocean kept YANKING on me, wanting my attention and reminding me that water has something to do with real and true peace. Not the drug or tequila kind, not the male attention kind...real true ribcage peace.
I developed a passion for scuba - maybe if I got INSIDE the ocean, I could understand why I get so much peace from it. Not just of the happy childhood family memory understanding, but of the scientific biological realization that I breathe easier, worry less and even exercise more in salt water.
Part 2 forthcoming...
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