O Come O Come Emmanuel

Tonight at RCIA we opened up with singing this song. It got me pumped! This song is usually only sung during this part of the Liturgical Year and I look forward to hearing it every Advent. Of course now I will have this song stuck in my head until I actually hear it sung by a choir but that’s okay. I can think of worse things to get stuck in my head. Last week I wrote about how quickly Thanksgiving comes and Thanksgiving goes. I was almost protesting Christmas for just a few more days so I could count my blessings longer. Even though I need to learn that I should count my blessings every day. Regardless, singing this song tonight got me excited about Christmas! It’s true: Rejoice, Rejoice, Our Savior is Coming! Alleluia! So mark your calendars. Sunday starts Advent. The countdown begins until Our Savior is born.
As a kid I always looked forward to getting presents on Christmas. For years I anticipated what would be under the tree from Santa and years later from my parents. As an adult I looked forward to giving gifts on Christmas. I looked forward to seeing the look on my parents or Frank’s face at the gift I selected. And now as a committed Christian I have reverted back to my childhood days. But now I am looking forward to the gift that God is going to bring us on Christmas. Emmanuel!

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Happy Anniversary

Today is my in-laws 36th wedding anniversary. What a wonderful milestone. I can’t even imagine the feeling. For me a year has flown by since I have been married but at the same time it feels like forever. I wonder what 36 years will feel like? Will Frank still take off his shoes in the front room and not put them away? Will he still be weighing himself five times a day? Will he still stay up an hour after I fall asleep? Will he still laugh at my corny jokes? Will ‘enough’ still mean enough? Will we still kiss three times before bed and kiss once at the door? I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but I can’t wait to have that feeling someday of celebrating 36 years.
My mother-in-law said the most poetic thing tonight at dinner. ‘Wayne and I have lived our vows, we’ve been together through sickness with my diabetes, through our healthy days when Wayne didn’t have diabetes, through richer days when Wayne had a good job to our poorer days when Wayne was unemployed, to better days like today and to worse days (as she winks at Wayne) and now til’ death do us part.’ It’s amazing how true the vows we say on our wedding come true. In 36 years what Joanne has said is true; they have lived all their vows. But in a year I feel like we have lived ours as well. Here is too many more years.

My First Random Blog

There has been a single strand of spider web in our bathroom for weeks now. Every time I sit in my favorite stall I look up to see if the web is still there. That’s the first thing I look at when I sit down. I can’t help but notice the web since it crosses over the bright fluorescent bulbs plastered into the ceiling. I often wondered if the other five girls noticed the web. I guess it is comforting to know that housekeeping doesn’t use my stall. Otherwise they would see the web and take care of it. Or so you would think. Or maybe I’m the only odd one that looks up at the ceiling when I relieve myself. It’s kind of like the random leaf that is lying on the carpet in front of the kitchen door. Now I know everyone in the office has seen the leaf since it is on the way to the bathroom. But it is still sitting there and has been there since at least 6:45 a.m. this morning. And apparently everyone is just like me and walks right by the leaf trying not to get in its way because it hasn’t been crushed. It’s still a perfect leaf. Seriously we are all avoiding this leaf like the plague. From my knowledge, leaves don’t carry viral diseases so it’s okay to touch it. Nor do spider webs. I don’t understand how I’ll go home, cook a meal, do a load of dishes, fold a pile of clothes, pick up the dog poo, sweep the floor, scrub the toilet, vacuum the rug, but I won’t pick up a random leaf. It’s the same concept of the single strand of hair in the bathtub and the noticeable piece of dust in the corner. Those small tasks that seem like mountains to us.

I chopped the spider web down. It took three attempts at jumping against the bathroom door but the task is done. But I’m not about to pick up that leaf.