|
Jilida
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Jil
Birthday: 5/28/1983
Gender: Female
Interests: Running, going to cross country and track meets, reading, learning German, listening to music, hanging out with friends, watching movies, church growth, staring at the wall,
Expertise: Christian music, running strategy, checking my email just one more time, weirding people out, inadvertently scaring people
Occupation: Babysitter
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
4/5/2005
|
|
| Levi, the three year old I babysit, has been playing with a "Little People" nativity set that his mom recently pulled out for Christmas. He enjoys it, but as the Christmas story is not yet burned into his brain, he feels free to take some liberties. Namely by incoporating the other "Little People" figurines, even if they happen to be from Noah's Ark, meaning a zebra is frequently hanging around the manger. Noah and his wife are also often there, hanging out with Mary and Joseph. At first I laughed, "Why would they be there? What would they talk about?" I wondered. Then I realized that Joseph was a carpenter, and Noah spent 100 years building the ark. Yeah, they might have something to talk about. And maybe that is what heaven will be like, the most unlikely combinations chewing the fat and getting to know each other. | | |
| Yesterday I was talking to someone about Christmas carols, and she mentioned that she likes "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" because it is in a minor key. And I realized that in a sense I agree with her. I like that song because in the Western world the minor key is reminiscent of weeping. And I think the words to that song are best expressed in a manner which expresses their pain. "Come, Jesus" I can almost hear someone screaming, "Free us! We're in such pain! Take us from our slavery!"
"O Come O Come Emmanuel" is one of the few Christmas songs my church worship band does, but I don't care for their rendition. Their interpretation is jazzy, laid back. It denotes no frenzied anguish.
When did we lose permission to mourn? David mourns in so many of the psalms. He cries out to God in ugly, bitter terms. And I hear people glowingly praise the psalms, then turn around and only sing songs of rejoicing.
And yes, I believe we should rejoice. We are commanded to rejoice. And frankly, constant complaining doesn't help, our souls or anyone else's.
But the chorus of that song is only significant because it comes after the pain. We are rejoicing because we know there is a something that will save us from all of the pain we express in the first part of the song. We are not rejoicing because life is mellow. We are rejoicing because life can be at times unbelievably painful, and we choose to rejoice anyway.
And that is when rejoicing is the most freeing of all.
| | |
| I've recently found that a phrase that really irks me is the one that begins, "I don't trust anyone who..." In complete honesty it probably irks me because I'm usually found to be untrustworthy at the end of the sentence. From Steel Magnolias: "I don't trust anyone who does their own hair." Hmm, considering I've never been to a salon... From Al Roker being taught to cook on the Today show: "I don't trust anyone who doesn't like stuffing." Because I don't like bread soggy with meat juice I am untrustworthy? I guess it depends on context. Can you trust me to watch your child or not steal your money? Yes. Should you trust me with hair and fashion tips? Probably not. Can you trust me to make a tasty meal for you? I'd like to think so, but you might not be able to trust me to load it with fat. | | |
| A lot of people at my church here in IL are from Tx. To them, if I'm not wearing make-up, at least eye make-up, I'm frumpy.
In the North East, when I visit my parents, Harvard grads walk around in flannel shirts and old denim. If I wear anything classier than sneakers I'm dressed up.
I like culture, I really do, it just gets tricky when I'm debating whether to culturally conform to the people I'm about to hang out with or the people we'll go see when we're out and about.
| | |
| A mutual friend came over to hang out with my roommate. Part of me wants to be jealous that my roommate, who really hasn't hung out with me in months, won't intentionally spend time with me, but will make time for others. But theirs is a teasing, snapping love. Between the two dominant personalities I mostly just want to crawl into my room and hide. So maybe I'm okay with not really being part of the group tonight... | | |
|
