Desde el Monte... Christmas Break

Over the course of my short time in Uruguay, I was introduced to many experiences that were different from my life in Texas. Also, since Uruguay is south of the Equator, Uruguay was having cold weather just as Texas was really heating up. The seasons we associated with certain holidays were exactly opposite for them. It was all just very different.

There is one thing that was not different, though. It was not different then and it is not different today. Jesus chose to become a man through a lowly birth so the He could redeem every one of us. His blood was shed for me, for the citizens of Uruguay, for Kimenyi (the little boy in Rwanda that we sponsor), for the homeless guy we gave a dollar last night, for Casey Anthony, for Kim Jong Il, for our "enemies", and for every human who has drawn breath. He wants all of us. Jesus was desperate enough for a relationship with each of us that He went to the most extreme lengths possible.

I think that is the most important thing that I can remember today, and therefore it is the most important thought I could convey to you at this moment. The God of Love sent His Son to beat a gruesome death so that EVERYONE could have hope in Him. 

So Merry Christmas, and God bless us, every one. 

Everybody's Happy

My precious Mama was a gentle soul. She was the quiet complement to my Dad's gregariousness. She rarely ever said a harsh word, even when we deserved it. She loved Jesus, read her Bible regularly, and prayed for her family and many others. She loved people by cooking for them. She also shared her talents by sewing, quilting, and painting for us. She nursed us when we were sick and when we were just whiny. She was good at adjusting to most any situation just to make it easier on those around her. She still wrote out and mailed letters to loved ones, because she liked communicating that way and because she knew how special it made people feel when they got a piece of mail that was not a bill. 

Something else that Mama was good at was being my Mama. She understood my strengths and weaknesses. She appreciated my quirks. She knew to just smile and nod when I said, "Guess what, Mama?". She did not begrudge me the emotional fragility that came with my genetic personality. She never gave up on me even though I fell on my face quite often. She knew that even as an adult, I still was thrilled when she made me a heart-shaped bologna sandwich for Valentine's Day. She knew how to get rollers (hot or wet) to stay in my wavy-only-in-places hair. She welcomed my friends into our home with a hug even if she was meeting them for the first time. She forgave me over and over and over again for transgressions great and small. She treated my husband as her own son and loved on his kids and grandkids whenever she had the chance. She rocked my baby puppies to sleep. She answered my phone calls in the middle of the night when I was crying so hard that I could not breathe and was not able to tell her what was wrong. She constantly went without so that I could have what I needed and what I wanted. She paid for me to have my hair dyed purple, then pink, and then burgundy. She laughed at my stupid jokes. She went with me to movies that she did not enjoy just so she could spend time with me. She loved being my Mama.