Starting the countdown

Now playing: Relient K’s Christmas album, Let It Snow Baby… Let it Reindeer.

This one’s on the top of my list of favorite Christmas albums, along with Frank Sinatra, The Carpenters, Vince Guaraldi, Dave Barnes, Michael W. Swith, Amy Grant, and She & Him.  Then there’s also Bing Crosby because we can’t leave him out even if some of his songs are kind of strange.  And there’s also the first Harry Connick Jr Christmas album.  He made another one a couple years ago that has a song on it called  “The Happy Elf”…  evidence that it’s not as high quality as the first one.

Next step towards making my habitat Christmassy is to buy Christmas lights at Dollar Tree.  Kathryn and I want blue lights or purple, but if it’s going to be more expensive, we’ll go with white.  It’s just the way that things work when you have a slightly limited budget and might need cereal more than blue lights.

Today marks 28 days until Christmas.

I have so many memories of Christmas as a small, medium, and current size person.  Funny thing is that most of them are from the time leading up to Christmas.  I mean, I have great memories of waking up on Christmas morning, putting on my bathrobe that had hearts all over it, and having my parents cover my eyes as we walked past the Christmas tree (which apparently had unwrapped presents from Santa underneath it), down the stairs, and to the stockings.  The memories of Christmas Eve services, holding candles and singing Silent Night have special places in my heart.

I think I’ll just admit right out that I enjoy a lot of the parts of Christmas that are totally commercial.  As much as I want Jesus to take first place (during this and every season), it’s not bad to enjoy twinkly lights and candles and cookies as well.  Everything in moderation and in its right place.  I’m sure that the first Christmas in Bethlehem lacked the glamour of an American Christmas. I’m sure it was much closer to a silent night than we’ll ever get.

And then again, there are those moments of awe that trump all the rest of it.  Flashy displays and excitement about giving and receiving presents all fade quite a lot when one is struck with the thought that he came for me.

He came for me.

For the son of man came to seek and save that which was lost.

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