Browsing the blog archives for December, 2009.

Christmas Traditions

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My family doesn’t really have major traditions other then picking a date and getting together for a large feast and bonding with the family.  Duane’s family has more traditions going on, down to even what they eat.  (I guess my family has a food tradition – my Grandma’s potatoe filling)  After a huge meal of ham (I forget the other meat) and a bunch of side dishes, the family kinda scatters to do there own thing.  Some going for walks out the lane (it’s warm in Texas), some heading to the pond, some playing games, etc.  Then we gather mid afternoon into the family room – pack everyone in.  Sing some songs, the kids do little performances, and then the fun part.  Grandma & Grandpa walk out of the room and the Grandkids get all giddy (some of the Aunts & Uncles get giddy, too) because we all know what that means – the gifts are coming.  It begins to get a little crazy then, as gifts are exchanged all around.

Now Duane & I . . .  we aren’t really sure how to have traditions.   So far our tradition has been to pick a day, any day of the month, and exchange our gifts.  Last year it was at “the park bench”, this year it will be in our cozy little christmasy living room.  The year before last, I think it was in a random empty room at the mission with nothing Christmasy in sight.  The year before that neither of us gave each other gifts – that was a sad year.

One tradition we do have, is to go visit our bench yearly, but that doesn’t even always happen the same day.

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November 28, 2007  The year us forever was decided.

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December 6, 2008  The year we exchanged our Christmas gifts in the snow.

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November 20, 2009  The year we went there, just to celebrate – to celebrate us and to celebrate the purchase of our house.  Our bench got an addition from last year – the annoying divider in the middle.

Maybe we’ll eventually come up with a Christmas tradition, but personally, I like the randomness of Christmas.  One year being with his family on Christmas, the other year with mine, and each year with both at some point.  And in the midst of that finding time to do our own personal gift exchange, as well as celebrate this time of the year with friends from Texas to PA.

But the bench tradition is something I want to hang onto.  I hope we do that till we’re old and gray.

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My sister

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-crazy
-annoying
-strange
-bookworm
-poet
-photographer
-amazing

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As much as we can tell each other off, and at times annoy each other, I have been known to say at various times concerning various things, that she’s the one that “gets me”.  And the thing is, we have differing opions at times, but she’s still the one who “gets me” and I can say just about any crazy thing and she won’t really thing that I”m crazy.  She’s o.k. with it.  She’s fine with me.  I like her a lot.

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And as calm and mature as she looks most times, that’s not always the case. 

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We connect.  Sometimes as very mature adults.  And sometimes it’s our immaturity that forms the bond.

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Right now, I’m amazed at God.  I’m amazed at how God works and orchestrates things in our lives and presents oportunities to us that cause us to make decisions that He uses for His purposes, in His time.

And I’m amazed, because the girl I saw today, didn’t seem like my sister.  It was a passionate God-filled woman who has taken up the “sword” and is fighting for truth.  Now, I’m not saying that my sister is not normally God-filled, or that she doesn’t take up the “sword” and fight for right things on a regular basis, but there is something different about it this time.  She is being so brave and bold and going places I didn’t really expect her to go.  I didn’t know what to say.  I just listened in amazement as words came out of her mouth.  She’s passionate about what she’s fighting for, but by the grace of God, she’s fighting for it in love.  She’s brave.

I just pray that she doesnt’ become mortally wounded in the fight.  I’m sure wounds will come (they already have), but I pray that they don’t kill her spirit.  Praying most of all that God wins. 

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p.s.  you’re my hero, Michele.

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