All I want for Christmas

She was old. Even missing a few teeth. Bundled in scarves. Her accent foreign. Her dog was waiting outsides, peering anxiously through the glass doors of the post office.

She noticed me talking to him as I pushed through the door, and in the space of about twenty minutes I had her life story. Or parts of it.

She's Greek; the dog is Russian. Or at least his name is...Yuri, after Dr. Zhivago. It's the just the two of them; he is her family. Once when her arthritis was particularly bad, he jumped down in the morning and got under her feet to help her climb off the bed.

She has very little income, but she does not go hungry. All she asks is her health and peace of mind--the kind that only comes from above. Even for bread and cheese she says, "Thank you, Jesus!" When she wakes up and puts her feet on the floor: "Thank you to God!"
Her friend, who has money but is anxious for many things, asks her, "What makes you smile? For what can you thank God?" She tells her, "For life!!"

She was orphaned at two--or, rather, lost her mother. When her father remarried, the stepmother and her children only wanted him, so Kathy and her brother were shipped off to be raised by two separate uncles.

When she was fourteen, a boy in her town in Greece was in love with her. He followed her everywhere, but she cared nothing for boys then. But just before Christmas, he called her. He'd gotten her number from a cousin. After 64 years -- 64 years!! -- he says, "I still love you." Maybe she will not remain entirely alone.

Over and over she tells me, "Baby, if you have peace of mind, you will be okay." Her gratefulness convicts and warms me. Amazing that God orchestrated our meeting. I am friendly to strangers, but it's not often that I spend twenty minutes in conversation with one. I finally left, only because I was on the clock. I hugged her goodbye and promised to pray for her, and she kissed my cheek. I'm stunned at the thought that I could have missed that encounter.

It's a good ending to my year.

new favorite phrase

• sanctified common sense

Thank you, Kevin DeYoung. From his book Just Do Something.

"...prayer is the third key in seeking wisdom. But isn't it possible that if we are walking with God in daily prayer, and we have some sanctified common sense, that we should be able to make decisions on the spot once in a while?"

Convicting on both sides. Sometimes I need to just make a decision and quit waffling on stuff, hiding my fear behind the skirts of "I really need to pray about this." On the other hand, I have a lot of common sense, but sometimes it doesn't have enough sanctity. It's great to be able to make good decisions when they need to be made, but we must not forget the qualifier. My decisions only have one chance of being wise: if I'm actually walking in daily prayer.

waiting...

In your ocean I'm ankle deep
I feel the waves crashing on my feet
It's like I know where I need to be
I can't figure out
No, I can't figure out
Just how much air I will need to breathe
When your wave crashes over me
There's only one way to figure out
Will you let me drown
Will you let me drown

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire
Cause I just want
Something beautiful to touch me
I know that I'm in reach
I am down on my knees
And waiting for
Something beautiful


And the water is rising quick
And for years I was scared of it
We can't be sure when it will subside
So I won't leave your side
No I can't leave your side

Hey now, this is my desire
Consume me like a fire
Cause I just want
Something beautiful to touch me
I know that I'm in reach
I am down on my knees
And waiting for
Something beautiful

"Something Beautiful" ~ NeedtoBreathe

Who am I?

"Do you want to know who you are? Don't ask. Act! Action will delineate and define you."

-Thomas Jefferson

it will kill you

“Do you mortify? Do you make it your daily work? Be always at it whilst you live; cease not a day from this work; be killing sin or it will be killing you”
- John Owen