Stepping Inside a Movie

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen the 1954 Christmas classic White Christmas. It remains my absolute all-time favorite holiday movie ever.

Each time I watch the part where they get to the Vermont Inn run by the General, I wish for a moment that I could step into the TV screen and live there.

I know it’s not real. It’s most likely a set built on a sound stage at Paramount Studios in Hollywood. Still, it looks and feels warm and inviting.

It’d be amazing if there were actual places like this. They’d almost have to be in the New England area or it would spoil the illusion.

Anyway, now you know my little secret. I want to live inside the movie White Christmas. With or without the floor show.

Another Christmas Carol

“It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve and Scrooge was conscious of a thousand odors, each one connected with a thousand thoughts and hopes and joys and cares long, long forgotten” (from The Muppet Christmas Carol).

Yeah, I finally got around to this one. It was as delightfully muppet-y as I’d hoped it would be. I think I’ve now seen just about every important adaptation of A Christmas Carol that’s ever been put on film.

As stated before, my very favorite adaptation is still the 1951 British version starring Alastair Sims. That’s always required viewing for me every Christmas season. But this one will be added to my list of favorites.

Now matter how many times I’ve seen it in all its various incarnations, the truth of the story always hits home with me. Christmas may be a day on the calendar, but the spirit of Christmas isn’t limited to 24 hours. It’s all the days of the year, ever year for as long as we live.

Christmas above all isn’t about presents and decorations. It’s about remembering those who have enriched our lives but who are no longer with us. It’s about family and friends gathered together to celebrate another year come and gone. It’s about the God who became flesh and was born into the world and dwelt among us, showing that even though we could never get to God, He could (and did) come to us in Jesus.

My prayer for all of us this season is that we don’t get so lost in the commercialism and fast-paced hustle that we forget about the tiny baby lying in a manger. I’m praying we can all celebrate the Advent of Emmanuel, who’s coming changed the world.

And yes, it was great seeing all my favorite Muppet characters (even Beaker), especially Gonzo as Mr. Charles Dickens and Rizzo the Rat as himself.

Post-Thanksgiving Pre-Advent Thoughts

Apparently, this will be one of those odd years where Advent doesn’t immediately follow Thanksgiving. According to my understanding, Advent begins next Sunday. I’m not exactly an expert on these things, so it may very well be that I’m wrong about this. If so, be gentle.

Today seemed like a good day to look at old memories on Facebook and Timehop. I’m reminded that two years ago I was dog-sitting in McKay’s Mill for a very lovable and friendly dog named Millie who has since crossed the rainbow bridge.

I also see pictures of my late beloved Lucy, who was looking very contented and well-fed at the time. Part of me still wonders if I missed a clue that might have helped her live a little longer. Most of me knows that she was deeply loved and had a very good life. I was blessed to have her for those 17 years.

I also finally got around to one of the classics of modern cinema. I’m talking about Weekend at Bernie’s. No, it was not a great piece of filmmaking by any stretch, but it was a good representation of the good and bad of 80’s movies.

Today ends the extended version of the weekend known as Thanksgiving/Black Friday. I got caught up on my sleep, made it through a migraine on Saturday, and had a lovely day today.

I’m not sure what to read out of The Book of Common Prayer next. I guess I’ll get a head start on the Advent readings. It’s never too early to start getting my heart ready for the celebration of the promised Messiah.

Here’s a little taste:

“What is coming upon the world is the Light of the World. It is Christ. That is the comfort of it. The challenge of it is that it has not come yet. Only the hope for it has come, only the longing for it. In the meantime we are in the dark, and the dark, God knows, is also in us. We watch and wait for a holiness to heal us and hallow us, to liberate us from the dark. Advent is like the hush in a theater just before the curtain rises. It is like the hazy ring around the winter moon that means the coming of snow which will turn the night to silver. Soon. But for the time being, our time, darkness is where we are” (Frederick Buechner, The Hungering Dark).

The Return of October

Once again, October is upon us. We’re entering yet again into my favorite time of the year.

Today was a pleasant reminder of why I love this month so much with the very fall-ish weather. I could almost smell the pumpkin spice in the air (though my personal preference if I have to choose is the salted caramel).

I’m completely aware that this is still the wonderful state of Tennessee and the warmer weather is far from done for the year. I expect there will be a few more days of 80+ degree weather (though hopefully no more 90+ days).

Still, the advent of October means that Halloween is on its way, and after that comes Thanksgiving and Christmas. October means bonfires and changing colors of leaves and crisper temperatures.

My one and only gripe about October is that I wake up in almost complete darkness. It looks and feels like midnight and my body doesn’t want to get out of bed. Still, I’ll take that if it comes with all the goodness that October brings.

Happy October, everyone!

99 Days Left Until Christmas

 

There are 99 days, 0 hours, 31 minutes, and 47 seconds left until Christmas, as of a few seconds ago. That means that there are 106 days left in 2017. Time’s a-flyin’.

I’d settle for that fall weather to make a comeback. Today was not a friend to my sweat glands, which seem to work overtime when the weather gets hot and sticky. Also, it seems wrong to have 85 degree heat and pumpkin spice at the same time.

But I’m already looking forward to the season of dusting off my astounding Christmas movie and music collection and revisiting all my old favorites. I’m anticipating my first cup of cheg nog (which is chai + egg nog for the uninformed).

As always, I’m still on the hunt for the ultimate tacky Christmas sweater, so if you see one that makes sounds or lights up, let me know.

In the mean time, I’ll be the one sitting in the shade with my iced beverage, trying not to sweat to death.

PS The countdown is down to 99 days, 0 hours, 24 minutes, and 44 seconds in the time it took me to write all this.

Advent Thoughts in April

“God travels wonderful ways with human beings, but he does not comply with the views and opinions of people. God does not go the way that people want to prescribe for him; rather, his way is beyond all comprehension, free and self-determined beyond all proof. Where reason is indignant, where our nature rebels, where our piety anxiously keeps us away: that is precisely where God loves to be. There he confounds the reason of the reasonable; there he aggravates our nature, our piety—that is where he wants to be, and no one can keep him from it. Only the humble believe him and rejoice that God is so free and so marvelous that he does wonders where people despair, that he takes what is little and lowly and makes it marvelous. And that is the wonder of all wonders, that God loves the lowly…. God is not ashamed of the lowliness of human beings. God marches right in. He chooses people as his instruments and performs his wonders where one would least expect them. God is near to lowliness; he loves the lost, the neglected, the unseemly, the excluded, the weak and broken” (Dietrich BonhoefferGod Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas).

Ok, so I goofed. I meant to type in Lent quotes, but reverted to Advent quotes instead. Blame it on the lack of sleep. But this one applies not only for Advent season but for all seasons in which we feel excluded or weak or broken.

There is never a time when God is not the Emmanuel, God with us.

 

Boxing Day Randomness

Here it is, the day after Christmas, when the usual sense of post-holiday despair sets in.   Only this time, I’m at peace with the world and feeling very much contented.

I still love the joy on the faces of my nephews and niece at opening their presents. It’s such a fleeing pleasure that gradually dims a little as they grow another year older.

Speaking of growing older, I’m finding that my own joy comes less and less from the gifts I receive and more and more in the giving. It’s less about the spectacle and more about the quiet moments where the full meaning of the reason for the season sinks in a bit further.

I’m not taking for granted that everyone I love will always be around– even for next Christmas. I’m learning to savor all the times we spend together, to soak in as many memories as I can before it all becomes past tense.

I didn’t quite get around to all the required holiday movie viewing, so I may have to extend the deadline on that one just a bit. I still haven’t seen A Christmas Story, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, or Elf yet. I know, I know. I’m seriously slacking.

I’m also thinking of ways to carry on the Christmas spirit beyond December into the new year. I’m thinking of the sermon at the end of The Bishop’s Wife. David Niven’s character says that the best gift for the baby in the manger who’s birthday we’re celebrating is treating others like we want to be treated. Or better yet, treating others and loving others like Jesus has loved us.

There really should be some kind of special observance for December 27. I’m not ready to give up the Christmas season cold-turkey. Maybe I can commemorate it by continuing to live out that spirit of generosity and kindness and seeking to live a more Christlike life.

That should be a good start.

 

Boxing Day 2016

Christmas Day officially ended 37 minutes ago. Even though I know that the Christmas spirit lives on, I’m always a little sad to see the day end because I know it means the end of all those festive decorations and lights.

Still more than that, it means the end to the time when I feel most closely connected to the past and all those family and friends who are no longer here. Somehow, those memories seem to visit me a little more freely at this time and I’m a little more thankful for them.

The beauty of Christmas is that because of the child born in the manger, no one I loved is ever really lost to me. I have the hope of seeing them again one day. Those of us who have received the greatest gift of Christmas in the form of Jesus can grieve not as those who have no hope but will the full assurance of the blessed hope that Christ has given to us.

That’s the same hope that nullifies any fear of death and the grave. It cancels out any fear of what anybody here on earth can do to me. That hope not only gives me a future but also an abundant life here and now.

It’s now 12:45. It’s all quiet except for the sound of my geriatric cat purring on the pillow next to mine. I’m still trying to make sense of the blur that has been the last five weeks since Thanksgiving.

I know that the next Christmas Day rolls around in 364 days but I also know the promise that day holds will be good tomorrow and the day after that and through all the days of the year.

That same gift that came in the manger so long ago is still available to anyone who asks and seeks the Christ in faith.

 

 

Just Like the Movies

I had a scene from a movie that actually played out in my own life recently.

In the movie Christmas in Connecticut, Elizabeth Lane writes a column about a long lost rocking chair from her childhood. In response, her readers send in rocking chairs in droves. Never mind the fact that she wrote about life on a farm with a husband and child while she actually lived in an apartment as a single woman.

I wrote a blog post about wanting a folding rocking chair a while back. Recently, one of my most devoted followers was kind enough to send me one. I just got it in the mail today. This may be one of my top five all-time favorite gifts, not so much because of the gift itself, but because of the generosity and sacrifice of the giver.

Christmas is about the ultimate gift of generosity and sacrifice. God send His one and only son Jesus into the world for many who would scorn and reject the gift but also for those who would open their hands and hearts to receive this gift.

My prayer for you at this season is that you are truly overwhelmed by the magnitude of God’s gift. No one forced Him to give it. It wasn’t done out of obligation or duty but 100% out of sacrificial love.

Maybe this Christmas we can all move a little closer to showing our gratitude for that gift though our own sacrificial giving and love. None of us can begin to hope to repay the gift or prove our worthiness, but we can pay it forward and point others to that Ultimate Sacrificial Gift.

“When the Maker of time, the Word of the Father, was made Flesh, He gave us His birthday in time, and He, without Whose divine bidding no day runs its course, in His incarnation reserved one day for Himself. He Himself with the Father precedes all spans of time, but on this day, issuing from His mother, He stepped into the tide of years. Man’s Maker was made Man that He, the Ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother’s breast, that the Bread might be hungry, that the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired from the journey, that Truth be accused by false witnesses, that the Judge of the living and dead be judged by a mortal judge, that the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Vine crowned with thorns, the Foundation be suspended on wood, that Strength might be made weak, that the Healer be wounded, that Life might die” (St. Augustine).

 

Let the Stable Still Astonish: A Repost

I’ve posted this on numerous social media platforms (and even here at least once), but this one deserves another repost because it so beautifully captures the heart of the Advent and Christmas season.

In all the hustle and bustle and rushing about, it’s good to still our hearts and quiet our souls to reflect on the miracle wrought in a stable so long ago:

“Let the stable still astonish:
Straw-dirt floor, dull eyes,
Dusty flanks of donkeys, oxen;
Crumbling, crooked walls;
No bed to carry that pain, 
And then, the child,
Rag-wrapped, laid to cry
In a trough.
Who would have chosen this?
Who would have said: ‘Yes,
Let the God of all the heavens and earth
Be born here, in this place’?
Who but the same God
Who stands in the darker, fouler rooms
of our hearts and says, ‘Yes,
let the God of Heaven and Earth
be born here–
in this place'” (Leslie Leyland Fields, Let the Stable Still Astonish).