Lent

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Lent always seems to sneak up on me. It's already been a week since Ash Wednesday and I still don't know what I'm going to "give up." I nod my head in agreement with the brilliant revelations my friends are having during this season of preparation without really knowing what they're talking about. I sing along to the songs in Sunday service without really understanding the words coming out of my mouth.

I felt this way last year too. What does Lent really mean? I know it's significant, I know it's important, why don't I feel it? It's the forty days leading up to the simultaneously most horrific and most magnificent thing to ever happen, and that will ever happen, to man. Why don't I feel it?

This past weekend, Cameron and I went to his hometown for a wedding shower. On Sunday, we visited the church he attended when he was little, and I got to meet the old folk who watched him grow up and see the stained glass windows that are so special to him.

The pastor preached on Matthew 3:16 - 4:1. He told us that Jesus went straight from hearing God's voice, telling Him that He loves Him and is proud of Him, into the dessert. The pastor pointed out that when Jesus was in the desert He didn't loose faith because He couldn't hear His Father's voice anymore; He remembered the times when God's voice was audible and that God's promises don't change.

I'm in a desert. I have been for a while. Because of this, it's easy to believe lies. However, I must remember the truths that God has told me and, just because I don't hear them or feel them right now, it doesn't mean that they've changed. His promises are still the same. He is forever unchanging.

I must also remember that Lent isn't about my experience, or the feelings that I have. It's about a God who gave His only Son so whoever believes in Him will have eternal life. It's about remembering the sacrifice that was made, and being thankful for the love that was poured out.

How are you preparing this Lenten season?

Love, Alli

The Unexpecteds of an Engagement

Terra Vision Photography

I'm going to start with a disclaimer.

Being a fiancee is wonderful. It's a short, special time that will never happen again and I wouldn't trade it for the world! It's just that, well, there are things I didn't expect when I first became a fiancee. I'll get into the mushy gushy, lovey dovey, out-of-this-world wonderful stuff in another post; but I've always been a bad news first, good news second kind of gal.

At first I was going to post a laundry list of every little thing that was icky about planning a wedding, but it basically boils down to one thing: planning a wedding is extremely stressful.

A girl, from the time she is born, constantly hears that her wedding day is "all about YOU!" We grow up dreaming about our perfect dress and the color scheme and what our towering cake will taste like and the teary toasts our brothers will make.

If you think about it, twenty some odd years of dreaming about one day creates a lot of pressure for that one day to be, well, perfect! Tiny decisions become monsters that will make or break a reception. Things you never cared about before, like personalized napkins and rental chairs, become your new obsessions, and you can't seem to make it through a lunch without discussing the benefits of a champagne colored bridesmaids' dresses versus beige.

While the intentions are sweet, I don't really want June 2nd to be all about me. First of all, I'm not the only person getting married. There is a groom too, people! Second of all, I'm inviting my friends and family to help me celebrate this special occasion! If I didn't want them there, I'd just get hitched at the courthouse and call it a day. I don't want to mistreat my loved ones by turning the day into the "Alli the Diva Show."

But, most importantly, a wedding isn't just a celebration of two human's love for one another; it is a celebration of Christ's love for us! It is a reminder of how He pursues us, the Church, and has, does, and will always go to any lengths to show His love for us.

When I become the most stressed, and become teary eyed over envelope addressing, that's what I try to remember. Though I'm excited about the flowers and the menu and the dress, I'm more excited that this day isn't about me, or about Cameron.

What are your thoughts on wedding days? Any advice on how to appreciate this time of engagement would be greatly appreciated!

Love, Alli

A Journey

Eve's Eye

So, it's time to be honest. I actually hate the coming of a new year.

Yes, I tried to optimistic in my last post. I discussed my new outlook on resolutions and my eagerness to start a new chapter. Even when I was typing those words, however, I was depressed.

I'm unusual, to say the least. I acknowledge it. Generally, the start of a new year brings me anxiety. Instead of looking at the blank squares of my calendar with a desire to ink in new adventures and destinations, I only see endless opportunities I could eventually mess-up. They were white spaces that might be filled with disaster and sorrow.

Horrible, right? If I heard any of my friends express this, I'd probably tear up a bit, buy them a cup of coffee, and enwrap them in a ginormous bear hug. For some reason or other, though, it seems perfectly fine for me to feel this way.

Well, that was until a couple of days ago.

I've been reading Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, and it is amazing. Basically he tells us that everyone is living a story. Unfortunately, most Americans' stories revolve around saving up money for the things they can't afford and don't really need. He urges his reader to turn off the TV and to start creating interesting stories, to take chances. He reminds us to not be afraid of conflict, for that's when characters grow and learn to become who they ought to be.

This was all great, except, I didn't really know what to do with this new knowledge. How exactly do I apply it to my own life? If I didn't succeed in creating an "interesting story" wouldn't I only end up disappointing myself even more? I didn't want to prove my pessimistic thinkings to be true; or did I? Why would I even want to take a chance?

Recently, a very wise guy shared a Biblical truth I've heard a million times in a different and brilliant way. He said that God loves me. This much I know. He then went on to say that God isn't like a CEO. He isn't sitting behind some obscenely large mahogany desk expecting me to do such and such at a specific time.

Instead, He is my heavenly Father wanting to take me on a journey. He wants me to finally step off the platform and onto the train. He wants me to not worry so much about our destination, but to take in the scenery and, hopefully, learn something about Him.

It's like Miller said, a person wouldn't read a novel if it was just the conclusion. Nobody would care. It's in the middle, the conflict, the turmoil, where the action happens. This is where the character develops, learns.

Yes, 2012 may not unfold perfectly; as a matter of fact, it absolutely won't. But, I'm not on this journey alone.

Love, Alli

The Aftermath

hena tayeb photography

When I was little, I'd wake up on December 26th with a groan. There were now 365 days until next Christmas! What a horrible trick. All the joy and anticipation that had been building up for weeks was gone. What was it for?

Now, the days after Christmas just feel odd. Stores have sported their Christmas finery since before Halloween and, suddenly, all the decorations have disappeared. Every ad on TV and billboard was speckled with snowflakes and holly leaves. Commercials are now back to what they once were. The multitudes participated in shopping frenzies and roads were packed. Though traffic is still heavy, cars no longer have "Christ is the Reason for the Season" stickers pasted on their bumpers or felt antlers sticking out of their windows and a red ball tied to their grill. Christmas trees line neighbors' yards and that one person with a wreath still on their door gets weird looks.

Did Christmas even happen?

Now that we have our new gadgets we're content to go back to normal life. We've finally acquired the things we'd been drooling over for months and we're ready to settle back into our routines. We get up, go to work, come home, eat and sleep. The excitement of waiting for something to happen, something bigger than ourselves, is gone.

Why is that, though? We celebrated the coming of Jesus. He is still here.  Just because the 25th has passed doesn't mean we need to stop the festivities. Now, I don't mean we should keep our Christmas lights up all year long; but, why don't we hold onto some of that extra peace and good-will towards men we all seem to have around the holidays? Why don't we keep baking our friends cupcakes? Why don't we continue to donate our time and money to charities? Why don't we continue to anxiously await the arrival of our Savior? What would that even look like?

Love, Alli

Light of the World

Spooky Action

My family has many Christmas traditions I cherish and think upon with a soft smile and a far away look. The day after Thanksgiving, the four of us would go to the Boy Scout Tree Lot and pick a tall, skinny, but full, evergreen. We'd let it soak outside in a bucket for a couple of hours, heat up the leftovers, and then bring in the tree and decorate it while we munched on turkey sandwiches and watched A Christmas Story. When done, we'd sit around the tree drinking hot tea and bask in the soft glow of the twinkling lights. We'd point out which ornaments were our favorites and recall that time we made the ice cream cone in third grade and the hand angel in the first.

My mom and I would bake coconut cakes to give to our neighbors for Christmas. It was just a recipe we found on Food Network, but it became our special recipe. The kitchen would smell of sweet coconut flakes and rich frosting. We'd pick holly branches from our tree outside and wrap the ends with tin foil and stick it in the cakes. My mom knew how to arrange it beautifully. She told me to be very careful for holly berries were poisonous. I'd worry and wonder why we'd place such a dangerous decoration on our gifts, but the finished product calmed my nerves. The dark green leaves with the bright red berries against the snowy cake always produced audible sighs from our loved ones.

My favorite memories, however, are of the Christmas Eve services when I was in elementary school. My mom, dad, brother, and I would dress in our finest red and green outfits and drive downtown to our family church. The sanctuary was always full of excited parishioners and chrismons ornaments hung heavy on the boughs of the large tree at the front of the church. The crowd grew silent as the Christmas story was read but burst through the rafters with the joyous tunes of "Joy to the World" and "Hark the Herald Angels Sing".

Suddenly, the sanctuary would grow dark. Candles were passed out and the organ would play as one person passed their flame to another. Anticipation rose inside of me as I waited for my candle to be lit. The congregation would sing "O Holy Night" softly. It was as if they were scared they'd extinguish their candle if they sang too loudly. Finally my candle would be lit and I'd look around the room. Tiny pinpricks of light surrounded me and I'd fall silent and listen to my mom and dad sing. At the end of the song we were told that though we had to extinguish our candle it didn't mean that the light went out. We were meant to carry that  light into the world. It was a reminder that Jesus was with us. We didn't leave him in the church as soon as we stepped out the doors.

My brother used to help lead the youth group I attended in high school. Sometimes we'd gather in his house, and whenever we did so, he'd light a candle. He said it was to remind us that God was with us, Emmanuel. The flame wasn't some sort of voo-doo magic that called upon Him, for he was already there. He was in the room, with us, hearing our prayers and watching over us.

Sometimes it's hard for me to remember that. Many times I feel as if I'm talking to a wall. This couldn't be farther from the truth. I love Christmas because there are candles everywhere. In the windows of people's homes, on the advent wreaths of our dinner tables, and in luminaries along our neighbors' driveways. Their flickering lights remind me that not only did our Lord come to live among us when He was born in that Bethlehem stall, but He is still with us. We are loved.

Merry Christmas

Love, Alli

A Conspiracy

Tina Crespo

This year, Christmas decorations were up in our mall by October 15th. The grocery store I frequent had them up by early November. Don't get me wrong, I love evergreen wreaths and brightly colored lights as much as the next girl. However, this was just too early. I was frustrated and it was for two reasons.

One, Thanksgiving might just be my favorite holiday and I don't like to see it pushed to the background. Turkey Day is about food, family, and being thankful. I enjoy the fact that there's no pressure to buy presents for friends and family. I mean, I'm horrible at giving presents. Don't believe me? I gave my fiance his Christmas present last year in February. February!

Two, what is it we're really celebrating? Are we putting our Christmas decorations up so early because we're just that excited to celebrate our Savior's decision to live with us and eventually die for us? Unfortunately, I don't think so. I think companies brilliantly realize that most of us have a desire to revert back to childhood and spend time with our loved ones. Christmas is the perfect time to take advantage of these emotions as nostalgia is hiding around all corners with every ornament brought down from the attic and each snickerdoodle baking in the oven. Christmas songs don't help either. Every one is about longing to go home for the holidays, but not being able to. How sad is that? One moment I'll be merrily singing along to "Jingle Bells" in my car and sobbing along with "I'll be Home for Christmas" the next.

Sparkling snowflakes hanging in our favorite store's window says, "Hey, I know you're sad you're not snuggling with your mom right now and watching Mary Poppins. So, come in and buy a nice cashmere sweater for her. It'll make everything better." And you know what? I've believed it!

This Thanksgiving I was cleaning out my room in my parent's house, trying get rid of things I don't need anymore. I was appalled at how junk much I had! I never used half of that stuff and I should have given it away years ago. Instead, it just sat in my room. Then, I started thinking about the quickly approaching December 25th and the useless gifts I would soon purchase for my friends and family. I feel like I never give them anything they really need and pretty soon it'll just be sitting in their rooms too. I still feel obligated to buy them something, though, because that's what you do for the people you love, right?

On Black Friday, one of my friends tweeted something about The Advent Conspiracy. She linked to a video and, being curious, I watched it. Basically, it summed up all my feelings about this holiday season and put them into words for me.

How do you feel about it? Would you substitute a store bought gift for quality time or a handmade creation? Would you consider giving your extra money away to charity? I want to know what you think.

Love, Alli

Trusting

a place for twiggs

As we grow older, Christmas becomes less magical. The holiday can actually become a sad day where loved ones who are gone are missed or opportunities wasted are remembered or hurtful words are said. Why even celebrate Christmas and how do we prepare for it in the preceding days? Decking the halls and baking cookies for a large guy in red isn't enough anymore.

Church this past Sunday began with, "Today we're going to talk about the virgin birth." I looked around with raised eyebrows and thought, "Really?" and slumped down in my chair, preparing for a light sermon.

However, I was startled with a quote given by Larry King. In an interview, when Larry King was asked who was the one person throughout history he'd like to interview he responded with Jesus. When prompted to share what he'd ask Jesus, Mr. King responded that he wanted to know whether or not the virgin birth actually happened. This was because all of Christianity and all of history, for that matter, hinges heavily on the answer to that question.

I'd never thought about it before, but Mr. King was right.

It's not the literal question, "Did the virgin birth happen?" that makes the difference, though. It's the far larger question lying underneath that changes hearts. Can God really do anything?

As a Christian, I quickly respond with a yes. Of course God can do anything. He's God! Do I honestly believe that, though? Do I live my life with that as my mantra? Unfortunately, it doesn't look that way.

I am hoping that advent will now become a season of trust. When counting down the days to December 25th, I want to spend more time knowing that He has a plan and everything will unfold properly in His time. I want to spend less time worrying about photographers for the wedding and my job and everything that goes along with that.

He withholds no good thing. He gave us His son.

If you think about it, this whole, "God can do anything" brings the magic back to Christmas. We can be joyful again. What's more special than our Lord and savior coming to earth so He could save us from our sin? I can't think of anything.

So, go celebrate! You are loved and the One who saved you is looking out for you. You can trust that He's got it all figured out.

Yeah, it is hard. Don't worry, I'm still trying to learn how to do it too.

Love, Alli