Posted by: bandaidchild | December 26, 2010

Love is.

Much like a treasure hunt, I’ve found some invaluable things in Virginia, and I think they’re worth mentioning.

Love is….

Decorating the Christmas tree with your Mom.

And when you break an ornament the first words out of her mouth are, “it’s OK. Now don’t step on it; I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Seeing the ornament your grandfather got for you- a duck- when you were born, and even though it says “Becky” on it, you still love it.

A big paper Jesus you colored red, blue, orange, and squiggles of pink when you were a little kid that you made in Sunday school that your Mom proudly considers an essential item on the tree, and places it front and center.

Your cat, who has disowned you because you’ve been gone for two years slowly napping closer and closer to you.

Even though you have a faux-hawk that they don’t quite understand, they still introduce you to every one of their friends they’ve made in Virginia with pride.

Your Dad turning the heater up to 72-a record in this household- just because you are cold.

Paying for your plane ticket home and then not being mad that you didn’t get them anything for Christmas. And the fact that you actually had your dad pay for your mom’s gift and your mom pay for your dad’s in your attempt to get them something, they still loved the CD and the watch.

Your parents keep thanking God that you’re home and that they get to spend this time with you.

Your Dad going to the store somewhat constantly because of your severe addiction to milk.

Being taken to all the music stores in town not for your parent’s benefit, but solely for yours. And when you play a 3,000 dollar Taylor your Mom laughs at the price and doesn’t compliment you on how you are playing because she knows it embarrasses you.

Your Mom and Dad making a snowman with you in the backyard, each adding their own component to the process: Mom helped with accessories, such as the hat, arms, gloves, eyes and such; Dad helped maintain solid foundation so snowy wouldn’t topple over.

You can’t recall the last time you played in the snow with your parents, and at twenty five, you figure that this is a spectacular memory that you’ll hold onto forever.

And with this Christmas wish is missed the point I could convey.

If only I could find the words to say to let You know how much You’ve touched my life,

‘cus here is where You’re finding me in the exact same place as the New Years’ Eve.

And from a lack of my persistency, we’re less than half as close as I want to be.

And the first time that You opened Your eyes, did You realize that You would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left Your lips, did You know that it would change this world forever?

So this Christmas I’ll compare things I’ve felt in prior years,

to what this midnight made so clear,

that You have come to meet me here.

To look back, and think that, this baby would one day save me…

And the hope that, that You bring, that You were born so I might really live,

To look back, and think that this baby might one day save me.

And the first time that You opened Your eyes, did You realize that You would be my Savior?

And the first breath that left Your lips, did You know that it would change this world forever?

And I, I celebrate the day…

That You were born to die,

So I could one day pray for You to save my life,

Pray for You to save my life,

Pray for You to save my life.

–Relient K

I have always loved that song. I am in awe of how Matt Thiessen is able to articulate something so interesting. Did Jesus know He was Jesus? What sort of intellect did He possess? Could He have walked, if He wanted to, right out of the womb? Who knows. But one thing is for sure: He lived His life for love. Love of His Father. Love of the people He came to die for. Talk about living life to the fullest…. and having a purposeful life.

I’ve been trying to encapsulate how I’ve been feeling the last month or so, and I think I found the perfect word: selfish.

At times I have hung Jesus up like a seasonal garment. Sometimes I haven’t even hung things up, I just crumple them on the floor and notice eventually they’ve collected dust from sitting so long without any attention.

I’m not sure why I suddenly thought Jesus wasn’t as important, but I did. And I started down a maze without a map and without thinking I needed help. Part of me feels stuck in the maze still, and it’s cold, and I’m ready to ask for help out. But then I think, “what if Jesus wants me to wander in this maze for like, a long, long time?” and I wonder all of these deep thoughts, and don’t get around to actually asking Him personally.

It makes me nauseated to think about how content I’ve deceived myself to be without Jesus guiding my actions and decisions. Ironically, both the love I have felt from my parents and my own conviction of how much I have disregarded His is what keeps me up this night.

I have a lot of humility to obtain. Pray for me.

Love is…

Jesus, who was born into nothing short of filth, grew up working with His hands and doing hard labor,  maintaining continuous communion with His Father, and ultimately becoming the sacrifice for all of mankind.

Knowing that while I abandon God selfishly, He waits for me–and forgives me, as far as the eye can see, as far as the east is to the west.

I think I’ll want to ask Jesus if He knew He would be the Savior the moment He came into the world. Though perhaps I will simply weep at His feet out of sheer joy. Either one would be fine with me. I’m sure there will be time for questions.

-Becca

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Responses

  1. I absolutely love that song by Relient K–one of my favorite Christmas songs.
    A beautiful post, Merry Christmas!

  2. This is an awesome blog post. Thanks for sharing this. I’m glad you have made some great memories with your parents this Christmas!!

  3. sounds like a beautiful christmas, becca. i am so, so glad.

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