I love Christmas. I mean LOVE it. Not just Christmas, but Advent, New Year's, Epiphany, the whole deal. During the holiday season I get carried away on my Facebook and Twitter. I see all kids of fun videos and articles online, and I can't help but share them with my friends. So I thought I'd put them all together on my blog, sort of a holiday fun guide, if you will. Consider this your Christmas present. Enjoy!
First off, there are a couple of social network Christmas story videos out there. The cute one makes me giggle, but the sweet one makes my heart do that warm-twisty Holy Spirit thing. You know the one.
Speaking of the nativity, have you ever wondered what really went on during the first Christmas? Just ask these kids.
Thought Antoine Dodson's fifteen minutes of fame were over? Think again. He's back, and this time he's all up in Santa's business. Are you a Santa fan? Then here are some "facts" you might not know about the fat, jolly elf!
Here's a little something for my fellow Trekkies, then get your brain going with a little Christmas song game!
This is why we don't have live animals in the nativity scene at my church.
Northpointe Church has a rocking new way of making beautiful music.
I made a video with my friend/boss Lydia for an Advent Conspiracy event at our church. It's embarrassing, but I love it! And if you don't know about Advent Conspiracy, please please please go here!
It's a Rudolph/Roxanne mashup. Need I say more?
My friends are just as brilliant as The Police and whoever wrote Rudolph, IMHO. Meet your new favorite Christmas song.
It's not Christmas-y, but it's still exciting: my Auburn Tigers are going to the National Championship! Just a few links to show my fandom.
And a couple of old favorites, courtesy of Straight No Chaser and the SNL guys from way back in the day.
We've had some fun, but let's not forget the serious but inspiring links.
A man in India devotes his life to serving others.
My friend Kyle Gilbert wrote a "sobering reminder" about what Christmas isn't, and Steve West tells us why it's not such a big deal to say Xmas. Here on Rachel of the Well, I gave my own take on how to get the message of Christmas across to children.
And last but certainly not least, Stephen Colbert is both funny and sincere about Jesus' message of loving everyone.
Ok, one more: here's a little more of my own Christmas silliness, just for fun!
Well, I think that's all I've got. If I've missed anything super awesome, link to it in the comments. I'm wishing you love and peace during this holiday season, my friends! God bless you!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Our Nashville Adventure, Told in Several Increasingly Dramatic Installments ~ Part 2, The Creeper
Read the first part HERE (or you won't really know what's going on).
We return to our story as Bridget and I are walking up the street toward Rocketown, the venue where Relient K are going to be performing very soon. As we near the building, we see several well-lit parking lots with trustworthy-looking attendants, and I grow more nervous about the welfare of my precious Mitzi - the Mitsubishi, of course. We press on and enter the venue with our tickets in hand. We gaze around the industrial-style building and realize that we are in a sea of teenagers. While the opening band is performing, we have a lot of fun searching the crowd for anyone that appears older than our 25 years. We spotted a mom in a Christmas sweater and a grey-haired dad accompanying his tweenage daughter. Inexplicably excited to be the third-and-fourth oldest people in the room, besides the bands, we try to find a place to stand in the crush. We are stuck peering around pubescent boys who haven't quite realized how tall they have grown to be. Finally, Relient K comes out and all my hopes and dreams are realized (I told you this would be dramatic)! They put on a wonderful show with some of my favorite of their Christmas and other songs. I am thrilled to finally hear my favorite band, but the concert is over far too soon and we are faced with the trek back to the car.
As we turn the corner onto the street where we parked the car, we are distracted by the Nashville skyline looming above us. We stop to take some pictures to commemorate our trip. As we turn to get in the car and head back to our hotel, I suddenly become confused. Wasn't this where I parked the car? The only thing there now is an orange cone and a huge note spray-painted on a loading dock door - NO PARKING -
"Oh. No." I say. "The car is gone." Bridget stares in silence at the empty space and ominous lettering. I start manically walking down the street.
"What are you going to do?" asks Bridget, once she finds her words again.
"I'm going to find my car." I say determinedly.
We walk up the street to where a police car is parked. The officer inside rolls down his window, and I ask how we could find out if my car has been towed. He tells us to look at the parking signs and there should be a number for a towing place on them. We walk the block, writing down every phone number we see. I call each one, and get the same answer. "No, we haven't towed a blue '02 Mitsubishi Galant tonight." Unsure of our next step, we approach another police officer that has been directing traffic (looking back, I thank God that there was so much going on that night in Nashville. We would have been in trouble if we hadn't had those officers to help us). We tell him what has happened, and he puts in a call for an officer to come help us find the car. He gives us a number to call if no one has shown up in fifteen minutes, then he goes back to directing traffic at the intersection nearby.
Bridget and I sit down on a bench to wait. The street we are on is pretty much abandoned because of construction. There is no one walking or driving by. She has left her coat in the car, so she is shivering in the 40-degree weather. We wait for about fifteen minutes, so I call the dispatch office to see if someone is coming. They tell me that someone is on their way. As we are sitting there, Bridget notices a nice, black car drive by. She thinks it might be an undercover police car, until it drives right by. When it circles the block and drives by us again, this time slowing down, she gets a little nervous. I, in the meantime, am writing down all the phone numbers I think I will need because my phone is about to die. Of course, I brought the charger, but it is in the missing car. As I am writing down the number of my cousin, who lives in Nashville, I hear Bridget say "Rachel, this car has driven by here three times."
I look up to see the car pass us, then stop and slowly begin to back toward us. I say "Oh, he's probably just going to use the meter." But I scoot down to the end of the bench, away from the approaching car. As the car gets right beside our bench, the driver parks and cuts the engine. Bridget and I stand up and nonchalantly begin walking down the sidewalk, away from the car. We peek back to see the driver climb out of the car and walk to his trunk, staring at us the whole way. When he opens the trunk and peers inside, Bridget nudges me and says "Rachel, GO!"
We run across the street to a hotel entrance. We hide behind some bushes and watch the man in the black car rummage around in his trunk. When he stands up and looks across the street to where we are hiding, we scramble to the door and try to enter the hotel. But the door is locked. We have nowhere to go.
Don't miss the final part of our adventure, coming soon (comments will speed up the writing process)!
Here it is! Part 3 ~Awkward Side-Hug~
We return to our story as Bridget and I are walking up the street toward Rocketown, the venue where Relient K are going to be performing very soon. As we near the building, we see several well-lit parking lots with trustworthy-looking attendants, and I grow more nervous about the welfare of my precious Mitzi - the Mitsubishi, of course. We press on and enter the venue with our tickets in hand. We gaze around the industrial-style building and realize that we are in a sea of teenagers. While the opening band is performing, we have a lot of fun searching the crowd for anyone that appears older than our 25 years. We spotted a mom in a Christmas sweater and a grey-haired dad accompanying his tweenage daughter. Inexplicably excited to be the third-and-fourth oldest people in the room, besides the bands, we try to find a place to stand in the crush. We are stuck peering around pubescent boys who haven't quite realized how tall they have grown to be. Finally, Relient K comes out and all my hopes and dreams are realized (I told you this would be dramatic)! They put on a wonderful show with some of my favorite of their Christmas and other songs. I am thrilled to finally hear my favorite band, but the concert is over far too soon and we are faced with the trek back to the car.
As we turn the corner onto the street where we parked the car, we are distracted by the Nashville skyline looming above us. We stop to take some pictures to commemorate our trip. As we turn to get in the car and head back to our hotel, I suddenly become confused. Wasn't this where I parked the car? The only thing there now is an orange cone and a huge note spray-painted on a loading dock door - NO PARKING -
"Oh. No." I say. "The car is gone." Bridget stares in silence at the empty space and ominous lettering. I start manically walking down the street.
"What are you going to do?" asks Bridget, once she finds her words again.
"I'm going to find my car." I say determinedly.
We walk up the street to where a police car is parked. The officer inside rolls down his window, and I ask how we could find out if my car has been towed. He tells us to look at the parking signs and there should be a number for a towing place on them. We walk the block, writing down every phone number we see. I call each one, and get the same answer. "No, we haven't towed a blue '02 Mitsubishi Galant tonight." Unsure of our next step, we approach another police officer that has been directing traffic (looking back, I thank God that there was so much going on that night in Nashville. We would have been in trouble if we hadn't had those officers to help us). We tell him what has happened, and he puts in a call for an officer to come help us find the car. He gives us a number to call if no one has shown up in fifteen minutes, then he goes back to directing traffic at the intersection nearby.
Bridget and I sit down on a bench to wait. The street we are on is pretty much abandoned because of construction. There is no one walking or driving by. She has left her coat in the car, so she is shivering in the 40-degree weather. We wait for about fifteen minutes, so I call the dispatch office to see if someone is coming. They tell me that someone is on their way. As we are sitting there, Bridget notices a nice, black car drive by. She thinks it might be an undercover police car, until it drives right by. When it circles the block and drives by us again, this time slowing down, she gets a little nervous. I, in the meantime, am writing down all the phone numbers I think I will need because my phone is about to die. Of course, I brought the charger, but it is in the missing car. As I am writing down the number of my cousin, who lives in Nashville, I hear Bridget say "Rachel, this car has driven by here three times."
I look up to see the car pass us, then stop and slowly begin to back toward us. I say "Oh, he's probably just going to use the meter." But I scoot down to the end of the bench, away from the approaching car. As the car gets right beside our bench, the driver parks and cuts the engine. Bridget and I stand up and nonchalantly begin walking down the sidewalk, away from the car. We peek back to see the driver climb out of the car and walk to his trunk, staring at us the whole way. When he opens the trunk and peers inside, Bridget nudges me and says "Rachel, GO!"
We run across the street to a hotel entrance. We hide behind some bushes and watch the man in the black car rummage around in his trunk. When he stands up and looks across the street to where we are hiding, we scramble to the door and try to enter the hotel. But the door is locked. We have nowhere to go.
Don't miss the final part of our adventure, coming soon (comments will speed up the writing process)!
Here it is! Part 3 ~Awkward Side-Hug~
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Who Do You Like Better?
During my kids' worship service on the first Sunday of Advent, I was having a conversation with the kids about the first Christmas. Many of them did not know that Christmas is Jesus' birthday, but I wasn't really surprised. Many of their parents are regular churchgoers, and I have no doubt that they have taught their children the basic bible stories like that of the Nativity; however, these children are of the age that any talk of a little baby in a far off land a long time ago is overshadowed by the fact that they get lots of toys from Santa Claus every Christmas. Let's face it, they probably don't even like their baby brothers or sisters very much; why would they care about some little baby they don't know? I was impressed by the honesty of one little boy who said "Ms. Rachel, I just don't know who I like better: Santa or Jesus." To be honest, I totally get that (although once I pointed out that if Jesus had never been born we wouldn't have Christmas OR Santa, he changed his tune pretty quick). I don't blame their parents, the church, or even society as a whole for getting the whole message mixed up. It's a natural human tendency to hold on to the material things, those things we can touch, smell, see, buy, sell, hoard. Spirituality is a need that most count second to the physical requirements of life. And to a child, a toy is a physical requirement, at least in our culture. So if this baby they've never met less important than a magical man with elvish friends who make toys, it's understandable. Understandable, but not irreversible.
Here's where we come in. The only way that our children (I say "our" not as a parent but as someone who cares deeply about children, as a group and individually) will learn the true meaning of Christmas is if we, as adults, show them and tell them what this whole shindig is all about. Show them that loving and giving is more important than receiving. Tell them about your relationship with Jesus Christ and how he has made a difference in your life. They're just kids; they're not going to figure it out on their own. I know this seems obvious, but I think we've forgotten part of it. I, too, get caught up in the hubbub of presents and cookies and holiday traffic, and before I realize it, I have lost my focus.
That's why I like Advent Conspiracy so much. It opens up so many opportunities for acts of service, relational giving, and conversations about important things. If you haven't checked it out yet, do it. It can change Christmas for you and your family, and maybe it will change the world in the process.
Here's where we come in. The only way that our children (I say "our" not as a parent but as someone who cares deeply about children, as a group and individually) will learn the true meaning of Christmas is if we, as adults, show them and tell them what this whole shindig is all about. Show them that loving and giving is more important than receiving. Tell them about your relationship with Jesus Christ and how he has made a difference in your life. They're just kids; they're not going to figure it out on their own. I know this seems obvious, but I think we've forgotten part of it. I, too, get caught up in the hubbub of presents and cookies and holiday traffic, and before I realize it, I have lost my focus.
That's why I like Advent Conspiracy so much. It opens up so many opportunities for acts of service, relational giving, and conversations about important things. If you haven't checked it out yet, do it. It can change Christmas for you and your family, and maybe it will change the world in the process.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Our Nashville Adventure, Told in Several Very Dramatic Installments ~ Part 1, "Hotdog money"
It's a beautiful December day, and my lovely friend Bridget and I are driving to Nashville for an overnight trip to celebrate her 25th birthday. Our spirits are high as we head north. I'm especially excited about the concert we are going to see that night; Relient K has been my favorite band since my teenage years, but I've never seen them perform a full concert. We get to Nashville in plenty of time and start making plans to go somewhere special for a birthday dinner. As we look for the exit that will take us into downtown, I notice that the traffic is beginning to get congested. Before I know it, a long line has formed in the right-hand lane, and my exit is coming up fast. I try to merge onto the exit ramp, but the line of cars is just too tight and I sail right on by. But I'm not too worried. I say "oh, I'll just go up to the next exit and turn south. That'll get us there." I'm pretty confident in my directional skills; after all, I've been to Nashville a whole two times in the past six months. I pretty much know my way around by now, right?
I exit at the next opportunity and start making my way toward downtown. Traffic is getting worse and worse, but small-town girl that I am, I think it's just a normal big city occurrence on a Friday night. That is, until we see the first police lights. The road to the right is blocked, right where I need to go. I shrug and continue at a snail's pace, hoping we'll get a chance to turn soon. An hour and a half later, we're about a mile up the road, and my friend Patience has abandoned me for sunnier skies. Bridget is taking it all in stride, snapping pictures of the bright city lights out the window. We have passed at least ten streets, all blockaded on the right. Finally, as our car is trapped in the middle of an intersection at a red light, I roll down my window and ask a traffic cop, "what's going on?"
"Christmas parade," he says.
Ah. Great. That would have been nice to know. At last, we get to the end of the street. Nowhere to go but... left. We drive over the river and decide to circle around and attempt it from the other direction. This works much better, and we arrive in the general vicinity of the concert venue. I am nervous about missing the show, so we decide to take the first parking spot that we see and walk the rest of the way. Bridget says "look! They're parking cars over there." She points to a small road flanked by warehouses and office buildings. There seem to be a couple of men directing cars into a parking lot. I quickly veer onto the street and am greeted by a man waving me toward him.
I pull up beside him and roll down my window.
Ah. Great. That would have been nice to know. At last, we get to the end of the street. Nowhere to go but... left. We drive over the river and decide to circle around and attempt it from the other direction. This works much better, and we arrive in the general vicinity of the concert venue. I am nervous about missing the show, so we decide to take the first parking spot that we see and walk the rest of the way. Bridget says "look! They're parking cars over there." She points to a small road flanked by warehouses and office buildings. There seem to be a couple of men directing cars into a parking lot. I quickly veer onto the street and am greeted by a man waving me toward him.
I pull up beside him and roll down my window.
"Is this a parking area?" I ask.
"Yeah, you can park here. It's five dollar," he replies.
I pull into the spot he indicates and give him the five dollars. He asks for a tip, so I hand over another buck.
"Now, you're sure it's ok to park here? Who owns this building?"
"Yeah yeah, it's jimnerferver's building."
"Who?"
"Jim... Jimner Ferver."
"Oh...ok... so nothing's going to happen if I park here?"
"Naw, naw, I'll watch it for you."
"You will?"
"Yeah sure... can I have some more money? I wanna buy a hotdog."
"...Um..."
Now, I know what you're thinking. But how can I resist a request for hotdog money? My heart is made of sugar and spice and everything nice. It is not made of stone! I give him another couple of dollars and we walk toward the venue. I must confess that I did not trust our new friend with my whole heart. Call me crazy, suspicious, or paranoid, but I had a strange feeling that something was not right about the situation.
Bridget and I debate whether we should turn back and find a different place to park, but in the end we walk on, saying a little prayer that my car will be there when we get back. As it turns out, we should have said a bigger prayer...
Stay tuned for the next installment of the story. It's a good one. Trust me, I was there.
PART 2 ~The Creeper~
PART 2 ~The Creeper~
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