Dashing Through the Snow

Jingle bells, Jingle bells,

Jingle all the way!

Oh, what fun it is to ride

Behind a 325 horsepower sleigh!

Is there anything better than flying full speed down a huge hill in a bright red sled? Actually, yes, there is!

Meet Clifford, my dad's big red truck. Today, it's our best buddy, because it pulled us all around the field at a whopping fifteen miles per hour! Who needs a hill to get speed? (By the way, don't smile, or you'll get a mouthful of snow.)

I haven't been able to decide which is more fun: flying in the sled with my brother, or sitting in the bed of the truck and laughing as my sisters hold on for dear life. Both are great and wonderfully bumpy! After an hour or two of that this afternoon, I am quite content to sit by the fire and read.

Our Christmas Star

 I LOVE Christmas! It is definitely my favorite holiday of all time. Not just because of the gifts, decorations, cold weather, and treats, but also because of all the rich traditions my family has. Two of my favorite Christmas traditions have to do with the Star of Bethlehem.

The first one is that, almost every year, we watch the documentary Star of Bethlehem (http://www.bethlehemstar.com/). In this film, Frederick Larson explains undeniable scientific evidence that the star that the wise men followed really existed! I really love how every year this movie reminds me of the power and sacrifice behind Christ's birth, along with God's incredible power over...well, everything!

The second tradition is a spin-off of the story of the wise men and the star. We have a star-shaped ornament that is tacked to the ceiling on one side of the house at the beginning of December. Every day, the star mysteriously moves across the ceiling, and, eventually, comes to rest above the tree on Christmas day. My mom's tree is Nativity themed every year, so we think of the star as coming to rest over the stable.

I think it never really seems like Christmas until I take the time to stop and remember what it is really all about. Presents are great. So is snow, and decorations, and cookies, and everything else Christmas makes us think of. But without God's loving sacrifice to send us His Son to save us, it's all meaningless.  It's one thing to say, "Oh, yeah, I know Christmas is really about Jesus". But it's another thing to really think about the incredible, unstoppable love behind our celebration. This Christmas, I encourage you to let these truths sink into your heart and change the way you celebrate!

P.S.  I'd love to see some comments with your favorite Christmas traditions!

Dance for the King

     If you saw my first post, "A Writer is Born, Part I", you might remember that I mentioned I hated to dance when I was little. Ok, hated is an understatement. My first ballet class was a complete failure. I look back and think, "Poor kid."

    At first I dreamed of being a ballerina, so my mom signed me up for ballet class. My five-year-old brain thought, "This will be so cool! I will kick my leg up high and do twenty turns!"

   Now if you've ever even attempted to do ballet, you know it's not like that. Not only do you not learn to do the "fancy stuff" until about a year or two (or even more, depending on how hard you work and how old you are when you start) of dancing, but the process to get there is rather painful. As one of my later ballet teachers said, "If you don't hold it there, you don't build muscle". Sometimes translated as, "No pain, no gain."

  So with slow progress and aching muscles, I was thoroughly disillusioned. Being a beautiful ballerina was NOT worth it, I decided.

   Fast forward seven years. My family and I had just moved to Colorado, and almost all my friends were doing this new thing called worship dance. Basically, worship dance is a choreographed dance done by anywhere from two to twenty or more dancers. It is almost always done to worship music, and, depending on your teacher, can have elements of lyrical, ballet, jazz, or modern dance.

   You know how it is, when all your friends are doing something, you just have to try it. And I did. Not before my mom warned me that I wasn't allowed to complain about sore muscles. And I agreed. After two or three classes I was hopelessly in love. Not only was dance fun, (so fun it was worth the sore muscles), but it was also a powerful way to worship my King.

   I think that is why I love worship dance in particular. Most forms of dance scream, "me, Me, ME! Look at me!" But in worship dance, the focus is totally off you and completely on your Father.

  So now if you see me doing random kicks, leaps, or turns, (remember I said hopelessly in love, I can't stop!) you know why. I told you I wasn't crazy! Ok, well I might be crazy, but at least I have a reason. :)

  If you're interested in learning more about worship dance, here is a video of one my favorite pieces our dance school did: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVPJcWmDo4Q

A Writer is Born, Part II

   One of the biggest accomplishments of my life (and maybe my dad's, too, though he's done more awesome things than I have) started as a spontaneous, skin-and-bones-framework bedtime story. My grandpa, who we call Grampy, first told it to his five kids on-the-spot on a camping trip.

  Somehow the story lived on through my dad's childhood and into mine. I remember laying under mountains of blankets in Rock Springs, Wyoming while Papa told me the story of five runaway children and a mysterious bluebird.

  In 2010, Papa decided to make a dream come true and write the legendary tale down. All went well, at first. My dad is phenomenally skilled at story telling, and it wasn't long before all the little details and "why's" and "how's" were taken care of. He expanded on the original story big time, adding backstory, scary bad guys, and all that jazz.

  But while he is great at plotting, Papa couldn't write a really good sentence to save his life. Once the story itself was as good as it could be, he hit a wall. The book wasn't ready for publication (which my parents had already paid for), but it didn't seem anything could be done about it.

  Now, here is a lesson in God's amazing timing and plans. Just about the time Papa hit the wall, I was discovering I could put words together very nicely. Mama put two and two together and hence created the "dynamic duo", as we like to call ourselves. I picked up where he left off and changed every single word in the 100 page book. But I only added one little detail to the plot.

  Fast forward ten months and a world of hard work later, and there we were, holding in our hands the very first copy of The Blue Feather Escape. I don't have anything else to say except it is true, in Isaiah 55:8, when God says, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways."

   In the end, His way is so much better!