A lovely Christmas reading awaits your eyes here...

advent of joy

Advent: The Coming. Expectation. A huge sigh of relief and excitement all wraped up together. Finally, He coming. The man of the hour, God as a baby. Joy enfleshed.

Peace.

And yet we...

customs of "chrissmas"

Ah, the wit. The ability he possesses to simultaneously stake claims in the world of philosophy and the world of reality. I am quite sure his writing would never have been quite as endearing had he not been from the land of tea and crumpets. And lemon curd. And sticky toffee pudding… He had a way with blunt truths and statements of the obvious that normally must-not-be-spoken-for fear-of-causing-cultural-delirium. Yet, the majority of the time he hits the nail on the head. “He” who? None but my dear friend, Clive.

In his own ingenious way, he writes about the insanity of his fellow countrymen (the backwards people of Niatirb—Britain) in their customs and preparations for what used to be a celebration of advent.


… and beyond this there lies in the ocean, turned towards the west and the north, the island of Niatirb which Hecataeus indeed declares to be the same size and shape as Sicily, but it is larger, and though in calling it triangular a man would not miss the mark. It is densely inhabited by men who wear clothes not very different from other barbarians who occupy the north- western parts of Europe though they do not agree with them in language. These islanders, surpassing all the men of whom we know in patience and endurance, use the following customs.

In the middle of winter when fogs and rains most abound they have a great festival which they call Exmas , and for fifty days they prepare for it in the fashion I shall describe.


Continue reading here

So I keep vascilating and experimenting with different sites, in my classic style of not making a decision. But, after all, I will make my blog home at

http://www.expandinghorizon.wordpress.com/

See you there...

presents or presence... which do you choose?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVqqj1v-ZBU

some interesting thoughts from adventconspiracy.com

history lessons on the page

Life seems challenging enough one day at a time, and lately the challenges of life have not made way for motivation of expounding upon my thoughts on paper (or screen as the case may be). In all truthfulness, I rather detest writing. Seriously. People tell me I should write a book, and quite honestly that is on my top ten list of misery. My thoughts seem come too quickly or in a form much too complicated to enunciate on a page, and other times, although I’m very much an extrovert, I just prefer to ponder things privately and mull them over, making mental notes of what God is teaching me in the process of understanding Him and His ways. I do believe I am the world’s worst “journalizer”. I spent nearly four years in Paris and only filled one medium-ish-sized journal. Since I’ve been recovering in the states, I’ve chronicled fewer than 10 pages. I’m not exactly sure why. Besides the fact that writing things out takes too long, perhaps things are too painful to visualize on a page because current realities are too vivid to even begin to explain. Looking back on the past years, I now realize that I wish I had made more of an effort to specifically dictate both the little things in life, and the grander-scale lessons that God taught me on a day in, day out basis. In the difficult moments, I’d rather not have something to look back on and be reminded of things I’d rather forget, but I also know that history is important and by not detailing my experiences I have probably shelved many precious moments in the shadows of my mind ( I haven’t forgotten the French lady in the metro with seven-inch heels and bright blue tights though). Perhaps I need to step out of my proverbial writing box and make an effort to scribble things down to engage my memory for later times. Perhaps I just take memories for granted and assume that I will remember it all in detail later; after all, I still remember detailed moments from my grandpa’s farm in Nebraska and our family trip across America for the World’s Fair in Kentucky when I was only 10 months old–and no I don’t remember it just from seeing pictures. I describe memories that were never caught on film.
I’m so thankful that God did not simply entrust His Word to human memories. I can’t even begin to imagine how twisted our understanding of Him would be had He chosen to explain His kingdom simply by personal memories of imperfect people. Some days it’s the specific little-tiny-in-between words on the pages of my Bible that are the most encouraging. Not cliff-dwelling drawings to just ‘maintain’ the idea or concept, but to truly impart detailed blessings each time my eyes cross the page. Those are the words that make the stories vivid. It’s often the written words that make disciples of many nations where there are no missionaries. Words are powerful. The pen is mightier than the sword. When it comes to knowing God and His Word, it becomes an almighty combination. There is no distinction between His pen and sword–Ephesians 6:17 “…the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” He has written a History book that is so much more than a textbook or just words on a page. He penned His-story. A vivid, life-changing, inspired, salvation-illustrating, encouraging, challenging, useful, and loving weapon of grace. It is binding yet unbound. A tangible gift of Himself.
So perhaps the lesson in the end is that if I want to maintain a written history of the life God has given me for a future of encouragement, learning, special memories, reminders of who He is on a daily basis… I should follow God’s example and faithfully write what has been entrusted to me, detailing the blessings and creations of the moments at hand. Then again, if I realllly wanted to follow God’s example, I’d appoint other people to do the physical writing.