Day Twenty Five- Baby Jesus is Lost

   I know I'm a few weeks late on this blog entry. Writing twenty five entries in just twenty five days when I'm a full time Mom and Aunt was even more difficult than I had planned. But here we are, Day Twenty Five of Blessings but no where near the end of our journey on faith.
    I've actually learned a lot about myself on this digital journey. But I have to recommend, if you're going to take a honest look in the mirror, don't do it in December. The emotions already seem to be too stretched during this month and then you add in other stuff...it's like eating a third piece of pie when you're already stuffed. :)
   I've really enjoyed writing the stories...the moments...that have shaped who I am. The ones that reminded me of my faith or taught me to dig deeper into my faith to guide me. 
  There were some things I found I couldn't write about yet, perhaps in the next few months when winter is at its bleakest and I already feel dark and gloomy...I will tell you about when I was so sick that Death was literally waiting on the front porch for me and how it took a whole bunch of faith to overcome everything. But since I couldn't write about it last month, we'll see how long it takes me to explore how emotional damaging getting that sick can mess with a person.

    I feel extremely blessed to have the family and friends I do. Even though this last year has been difficult for my family and right now hero hottie and I feel like we want to take the next train out of Crazyville...I know what emotion drives my faith...LOVE.
    The Beatles had it, "All you need is love, love---Love is all you need.'

    Through the ups and downs; the little daily struggles and the monstrous I might die struggles; through the frustrations and the grief; the one thing I could hold in my heart, almost as if it was tangible was LOVE.

   Love for my family.  Love for hero hottie. Love for Bean and Abu. Love for canine critters that love back unconditionally. Love for God and all creation.

    Mary gave birth to the baby Jesus in a manger, surrounded not by the ideal environment to be laboring in but she had love.
   Jesus taught about faith, forgiveness, and love.

    One day CT, my niece was playing with the small wooden Nativity dolls I have and in her playing she misplaced the baby Jesus in the pile of presents under the tree. Suddenly, she is frantic, searching through the wrapped gifts.
   "Aunt Christy, the baby Jesus is lost underneath all the presents. Help me find him."

   I came to a shocking stillness and stared at her. She was simply speaking of the wooden baby Jesus doll lost in the presents but it was a stark reminder that even though presents are the fun part of Christmas... I do enjoy finding and giving the perfect present for someone...the true meaning of Christmas must never be lost underneath all the presents.
    Love. Forgiveness. Faith.

    They're some of the true gifts of Christmas.

   "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
    Matthew 6:19-21 TNIV

    Love, don't go on a journey of faith without it.
  

Day Two- The Blessing of Music

"Ah, ha, ha, ha- staying alive, staying alive. Ah, ha, ha, ha- STAYING ALIVE"

Disco music. You have to love it. (grin)
Wait. What?
You don't?

    I don't blame you. It's not my favorite either but disco music and I have a strange relationship; one that started in the womb.
    See, I don't like disco music. You won't find disco on my iPod and I won't be downloading it from iTunes any time soon.
    As far as the Bee Gee's song, "Staying Alive' goes, I know two words to the lyrics. Are there more?
    Disco balls -spinning round and round- while people who decided they wouldn't be a hippie, thought wearing polyester suits were the ultimate outfit to being groovy.
     They were sadly mistaken, probably lead astray by bad disco music.
     But I digress.

    Disco music and I go way back. Apparently, while my Mom was pregnant she went and saw 'Saturday Night Fever.' There by subjecting me to a whole movie of disco music. The horror. It was torture. I was forced to endure the sounds of disco and John Travolta.
    And I was never the same.
    After that, when ever the fast beat, whirlwind rhythm of disco would venture across the air waves, (which thank goodness grew less and less as one hit wonders took over the radio)- I would start dancing.
   The boogie fever would not...
   Could not be stopped.

   It's like the Pied Piper playing his flute, the sweet sound beacons and I must answer the call.
   And then I'm a disco fool, dancing the hustle, the sprinkler, and whatever all those other crazy moves are called. My children know them. I should be able to teach them break dancing and eighties dance moves, not disco. Urghh.
   I must have been brainwashed in the womb.
   A child born in the seventies, cursed by John Travolta. So I don't like disco music but I'm irresistibly drawn to the beat every time I hear it. :) (small confession, I do like one song. "Walking on Sunshine.")
    How is disco music a blessing? I'm not sure it is. (GRIN and completely kidding.) Roller skating rinks wouldn't have been so popular without it.

   Music is a blessing. And by my parents exposing me early and often to different expressions of this soul stirring sound, I have found that our journey of faith is not only uplifted by music...But measured by the songs we keep in our heart.
   The songs that we combine with our memories so that sometimes all it takes is a few notes of a gently cherished melody to remind us of our love. Of our faith.

   Such a blessing of music, starts in infancy with lullabies; sometimes hummed; sometimes sung softly. The lyrics not always correct and the voice not always perfect but with love...
   knowing we are loved because the music is expressed with LOVE.
   We are forgiving as children if our parents' voice doesn't sound good. We don't care because we are listening to the emotions and those are far more powerful than a perfect octave range. (Although a song sung with love in a beautiful singing voice is a work of art. I'm just thankful that as small children my Bean and Abu were more interesed in being sung to, rather than my scratchy voice.)
    We sing to our babies, with tales of itsy bitsy spiders and pat a cake. Our children learn songs of hope, peace, and reindeers for Christmas concerts.
   And as teenagers we crank it up while driving and let our wildly, crazy, and certainty not sane hormones sing along with music by singers that clearly understand us better than our own parents.

   At weddings, funerals, and special celebrations do we not have some kind of music even if it's only from some one's CD player?
   We honor these events with music that is specially chosen for it's expression.
   Hero hottie and I had the most difficult time choosing a song for our wedding. We liked so many types of music and so many different songs but we couldn't find one that expressed the way we felt.
   Which was love, hopefully happily ever after.
    So we picked a song; sweet and innocent. It was perfect for the time and when life is too gritty or rough I play that song to bring me back to a less complicated time.

    Music surrounds us and if we would journey quietly into nature with hushed reverence and without gadgets stuck in our ears we would find that contrary to the beliefs of humans, who have this mistaken idea that we have created everything first; we will find that music was already apart of nature long before we drummed our fingers with impatience.
 
Music- 
    It's in the wind blowing and rustling.
   It's in the songs of birds and the buzzes of bees and the movement of trees.
   And without this natural rhythm we would live in a world of staccato busyness, artificial and forced, losing the words to an ancient song.
   In this ancient song that we were given, melodies like the beat of our heart, the soft even breathing of a newborn, the chorus of crickets greeting the dusk, we are blessed.
   I have to conclude that our journey of faith is not supposed to be a silent one.
   But one filled with music.