Sacrifice will always affect people. When someone takes you to the airport. When someone takes the time to listen to our problems, over the exploration of their own. When someone gives you money, on loan, but isnt staring at a timeline or expiration date. Sacrifice has been diluted to words like nice, or cool. These substituted terms dont honor the acts like the word sacrifice. Growing up in a Christian family with a pastor for a dad, Christmas gets taken pretty seriously. Not to say it was a crack the whip mentality of faith turned into showy perfection, or any form of misguided, guilted ideology. It was always celebratory. Like we won something. Something we didnt fully earn on our own merit or ability. And in that spirit, and proposed knowledge, people were constantly sacrificing for one another - without a second thought. The kind of living we all talk about, but we pick and choose our spots carefully. Christmas, for instance. My parents made dog crap for money their entire lives, but spent outside of their comfort zone because they loved us, and secretly, got more out of watching our joy than we got from obtaining it. They cooked and cleaned for us, never really calling on us for chore-duty, because they knew Christmas day had us in this frenzy of eating cookies and playing with toys - which sadly is essentially still my greatest pastime :) They prayed with us and taught us the name Jesus, gently folding our hands, rubbing our backs, and tucking us into a narrative that we called truth - that an extension of God came in human form, lived in the reality we do, and suffered and died by 33, so that we could have life on Earth and beyond - which, not sadly, is essentially still my greatest gift :) Sacrifice. Historians can tell you that Jesus lived. Theyll back that up. But Jesus lived to die. And I only back it up in faith. I dont have evidence. But my Spirit sores and breaks me to tears in the same instance when I ponder the 1st Christmas and what it meant. When I ponder those many Christmas spoiled by my parents and siblings. When I sit here in California, down to a credit card, without snow, without blood relatives, waking up from cruel nightmares and daily dreams that fade and appear on their own clock. Because I believe in sacrifice. I believe in the 1st Christmas. And Ill believe in my last. Merry Christmas. I love you all.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 17:16:23 +0000