"Let Every Heart Prepare Him Room..."

                                   *cough* 

   We're just going to ignore the fact that I haven’t posted in 3 weeks. Sorry, I was too busy watching Christmas movies. 

   This whole month I’ve been extremely psyched and gung-ho about Christmas- and winter-related activities. Oh you know, the usual: ice skating (on our own backyard ice rink), caroling, holiday parties, shopping, cutting down a Christmas tree, baking and decorating Christmas cookies…

   

   I was so excited about all the possible fun stuff I could do, not to mention getting off work on a Friday night, that all my enthusiasm and great plans have carried me through almost the whole month of December... without actually doing any of them.

   

   Seriously, you can imagine my disappointment when I realized yesterday that it was December 22^nd--and the only cute, festive activity I’d actually done is make homemade salted caramel hot chocolate. I love Christmas Day and all, but the weeks leading up to it are the height of festivities, and they’ve whooshed right by me.

   

   Even the exhilarating adventure of chopping down our Christmas tree was kind of a letdown. We arrived at the tree farm, armed with a measuring tape and a saw, but just as we were about to brave the blowing snow and roam the acres of tundra in search of the perfect tree, we happened to walk past a row of pre-cut evergreens. My dad held one up to look at, just for the heck of it, and ten minutes later, it was on top of our car as we drove home. I mean, I suppose it was convenient that the very first tree we looked at happened to be the perfect one, but so much for the 6 layers of socks and invigorating trek into the woods. I felt a little cheated.

   

   In a mood of self-pity because I hadn’t done all this fun social stuff, I happened to flip to the Christian radio station and Brandon Heath’s Christmas song “Just A Girl” was on. I hadn’t heard it before, and was about to switch the station when I got drawn in by the cool guitar part and melody.

   

   As I listened to the nativity story told through the eyes of the innkeeper, my mood slowly began to change.

   

   It’s impossible in my household not to know this story inside and out…and honestly, it can get a bit stale sometimes. As important as the Christmas story is, I sometimes get sick of hearing the same old historical events year after year.

   

   But when I listened to this fresh perspective and different twist on Christ’s birth, everything become alive again, and I got chills as I pictured what he was narrating.

   

   It was exactly what I needed to hear. I could hear the Lord telling me that I was completely missing the point of the Christmas season. The same point that has been drilled into me year after year by my parents and at church. 

   

   No wonder I felt so empty and shallow. I had so focused all my time and energy for three and a half weeks on secular holiday doings (or wishing for them anyway) that I had neglected bettering myself and preparing a place for Christ in my heart.

   

   I felt like a little kid as those hackneyed phrases ran through my mind: “Jesus is the reason for the season”--“It’s not about getting, it’s about giving”--“Don’t get caught up in the hustle and bustle. Remember what we’re celebrating.”

   

   And so better late than never, in these last few days before Christmas, I’ve been trying to do a speed cleansing of the soul. A quick version of Advent...4 days!

   

   I won’t say something utterly cliché about not losing the real reason for Christmas…but maybe we should just try to find a new point of view and listen when God calls us in a different way than we expected.

   

   I think the words of the well-known Advent hymn are a lovely prayer to help us do this:

“Come, Thou long expected Jesus, 

Born to set Thy people free!
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.”

Well, enjoy the rest of your Advent!

…or, wait, have a Merry Christmas!

Starbucks Trip... Turned Cold

(from Google.com)

   As much as I love coffee, I surprisingly don’t get to Starbucks very often.

   
   Maybe it’s because I think $5 is absurd for a “tall” (small) cup o’ joe, or because every time I want to go, I don’t have a ride or don’t look adorable enough.

   Because it’s a well-known fact: you can’t go into Starbucks looking like a bear out of hibernation. That’s why today was the first time in three months that I actually got there.

   
   I woke up thinking, “The only way I’m gonna get out of bed today is if I make myself look decent for Mass and then treat myself to Starbucks...” So I got all ready, looked pretty cute for a Monday morning, and succeeded in convincing my mom to drive me over there (because I still need to work on that license...).

   
   I had been drooling all morning, imagining the feel of a hot Gingerbread or Caramel latte in my hand, and I got even more hyped up when I walked in the door and was overcome by the heavenly scent of coffee.

   
   Ok so I have no life. But hey, it’s the little things in life that matter.

   
   I stood at the counter for a minute squinting at the small sign (since I didn’t have my glasses on) and finally decided on the "Caramel Brulée" Frappuccino. All you Starbucks connoisseurs out there can laugh at me all you want, but I forgot that "Frappuccino" in normal language means “cold”. I thought about asking for it to be hot, but didn’t want to sound like an idiot.

   
   I was already shivering, mind you, due to the abrupt weather change. So when my order was an undersized (smaller than I remember) cup of iced coffee, I practically cried. Not to mention it wasn’t even a cute cup like all the other hot drinks I’d just seen.           But alas, I’m too prideful to say to the young girl that I have no brains and actually wanted a hot one.

   
   Luckily, it was still delicious, and I didn’t even mind that my whole body was trembling and my lips were purple.

   I waited patiently by the door for my mom to pick me up, trying to look as least pathetic as possible. I failed.

   5 minutes later, I was still waiting there like a sad little dog by the window.

   5 more minutes, half my beverage was gone, and I’d seen the same man pass through the door a few times. I think he felt bad for me because he smiled…

   5 more minutes… Tried my mom’s cell a few times to no avail.

   15 minutes is usually a short amount of time… but not when you’re standing in Starbucks trying to look cool as people brush past you in and out the door. I wish I’d at least had a bell and a bucket so I could’ve pretended I was from the Salvation Army.

   
   By then I was freezing, annoyed, worried about not getting my school done, and had an empty (cold) cup in my hand. So much for being all warm and cozy and cute, with a warm drink in a Christmas cup.

   At last, she came, and I quietly slipped into out into our beautiful monstrous minivan.

   The good side was that the caffeine finally kicked in and I had a pretty good day… wrapped up in a snowsuit and blanket. Gotta love coffee after all.

(from Google.com)