You like me. You really like me. Even as I type that, I can’t help hearing Jim Carrey’s voice a la Stanley Ipkis a la The Mask. That’s a great movie, but I seriously digress.

I was taught to say thank you and to always write thank you notes whenever someone gave me a gift. So here goes:

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

You read my little blogs from the very beginning, even the ones I wrote at 2 a.m. and the ones where I indulged in a little TMI and the ones I evidently forgot to spell-check.

You told me how much you enjoyed my posts and I was invariably surprised to find out it was you that was reading them. It meant a lot (and still does).

It’s been 4 1/2 years and almost 1,600 posts and it has never not been worth it. I would have written all these even if they only had one person reading them (me). It still would have been so worth it, if only for the catharsis and the practice of writing and learning how to continue to improve how I express my thoughts. And I am still learning.

So thank you yet again. Maybe what I write won’t help every single person out there, but will speak to one person and inspire that person not to give up. Or maybe even they will be inspired to write their own blog. Who knows?

I know that Jon Acuff probably gets 45,000 views on one of his blogs. Probably before lunch. But to me that means that a LOT of you took time that could have been spent elsewhere reading my words that came from my heart. I will always be thankful for that and for you. You rock!

Around this time last year (or possibly the year before), I wrote about how your nativity set is wrong if it has wise men in it because they most likely didn’t show up to see Jesus until He was 1 or 2 years old and Joseph and Mary were living in a house.

I still hold to that. I’m not telling you to throw your wise men in the trash. What I am saying is to check what you’ve been told about the Christmas story against what the Bible actually says. That goes for anything, not just the Christmas story. FYI.

I read about a family who sets up their nativity scene with all the pieces except one. They leave out Jesus until Christmas night. That way there’s an anticipation, much like there was that first Christmas night.

I like that idea. As long as you don’t lose the baby Jesus or the dog doesn’t eat him. But there’s something to be said for making your own family traditions, especially ones that center around the Christ of Christmas.

I saw a nativity scene today that I loved. I don’t think it’s too sacrilegious (or at least I hope not). Besides, we don’t still worship an infant Jesus. We pray to and sing to and love and serve a Jesus who grew up and lived a perfect life and died a criminal’s death on a cross and rose again. All for you and me.

So here’s that nativity scene.

Pretty awesome, ain’t it?

I got really lost once. Well, ok, it’s been way more than the one time because I have the world’s worst sense of direction. Not exaggerating. It’s really that epically bad.

Anyway, here’s a story about ONE of the MANY, MANY times I got lost.

I made the trek out to see a high school football game featuring my old alma mater. This was pre-me having GPS and/or a smart phone. Most likely, I had my directions scribbled down on a very wrinkly piece of paper that I stuck in my pocket and prayed that I wouldn’t lose.

I did just fine getting there. It was a good game and I’m fairly certain we won. Or they won and I observed.

On the way back was an entirely different story. It was dark, the road had two lanes, and I was in unfamiliar territory. I got lost.

I probably missed a turn in the dark and proceeded to lose what precious little sense of direction I had. And sanity.

Also, my car wasn’t acting right. It kept stalling out on me at very inopportune times. Like on a two-lane road in the dark in the middle of nowhere. I swear I heard banjos playing the theme from Deliverance. I was scared out of my mind.

I love what my pastor said: Christianity isn’t about how we can get to God, but how God in Jesus has come to us.

When you’re lost, you don’t need someone asking questions like, “Where are you?” If you knew that, you wouldn’t be lost. I personally don’t like people trying to give me more directions on how to get out of being lost. If I were any good at following directions, I wouldn’t have missed that infamous turn and gotten lost in the first place.

You need someone who can come to you and show you the way out.

That’s what Jesus did. He came to show lost people the way out, the way back, and the way home.

That is Christmas. It’s a time to come home. And Jesus has come to show you and me the way.

I had me a chegg-nog. I’m not sure if that is the correct spelling (or even if there is a correct spelling). It’s a deliciously awesome blend of chai and egg nog. In other words, chai + egg nog = one happy me. That’s the kind of math I like.

Why?

Because it’s Monday and I survived. Because I didn’t trip over my shoelaces and injure myself. Because I found out today that my temp assignment has been extended through the end of the year.

Sometimes when you can find no other reason, you just need to celebrate breathing in and breathing out. You need to celebrate being alive because life is a gift and your tomorrow is not guaranteed.

I read somewhere that if you want to change your perspective, find and write down three things you are thankful for. Do that for 21 days in a row and your outlook will be different.

So here are mine:

1) I am thankful for whoever decided to combine chai and egg nog.

2) I’m thankful to be able to serve at Room in the Inn and get my perspective challenged and changed by the homeless men I hang out with every Monday.

3) I’m thankful to be inside on a cold, windy, and rainy night.