Hit pause

Well, today has been pretty awesome. Woke up, spent time with my family and unwrapped presents. Then to church for a truly inspiring message and carols. Came home, more presents, lots of hugs, off to the in-laws for Christmas lunch. Stuffed ourselves full, talked, complained about the weather (it is seriously stinking hot here and humid too), hugged, played with Miss Three, took photos, ate a delicious dessert of chocolate dipped strawberries and fresh fruit. Then had the traditional Christmas afternoon nap. *breath* More playing with Miss Three, grazed on leftovers for pseudo-dinner. Collected up all the presents and paraphernalia that comes with a young child and a budding photographer. Supplied with more yummy things to take home just in case we feel like eating again in the next three days. Got home, put daughter to bed, collapsed on my own bed, laptop open in front of me.

Phew! As I said, it was pretty awesome. I actually like my family, guess I'm one of the lucky ones. But, apart from one small segment of time earlier this evening and just now, I've not really sat down to think. To think about today and it's meaning to me. Sure, I get to spend time with my loved ones, give and receive presents and eat good food like there's no tomorrow. But as a Christian, Christmas means so much more.

Now, I've been a Christian for a very long time. I'm proud to say it's part of who I am. I still get things very wrong because I'm also very human (see last blogpost for evidence). So there's no pretence here, ok?

I need to hit pause.

To remember the birth of that tiny baby all those years ago, who grew up to be crucified. Imagine how His mother would have felt, knowing that her son, the Christ, would have to pay the ultimate price for humanity gone wrong? But she also knew the hope that was to come. A reconciliation between man and God. Eternity was in the heart of that small child. Amazing.

So in pondering this, I remembered one of my favourite Christmas songs. It is not a carol, nor a hymn, just a simple, beautiful song. And I just wanted to share it with you all. The video link is http://www.tangle.com/view_video?viewkey=12a324f447ddd0b7b164 (just ignore the ad at the beginning of playback, ok?). The lyrics are below.

Now this is me, just being myself, just being honest. Just sharing what I believe in my heart to be true. No expectation, no condemnation. Ever. Just know I love you all, that you mean a lot to me.

May you have a wonderful Christmas.

Jill

__________________________________________
Welcome to Our World - Chris Rice

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking
How we need to hear from God
You've been promised, we've been waiting

Welcome Holy Child
Welcome Holy Child

Hope that you don't mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long-awaited Holy Stranger

Make Yourself at home
Please make Yourself at home

Bring Your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven's silence

Welcome to our world
Welcome to our world

Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us

Unto us is born
Unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around You
Breathe our air and walk our sod
Rob our sin and make us holy

Perfect Son of God
Perfect Son of God
Welcome to our world

Nomz!

Floored

White flower in a sea of bokeh

Distracted

I've needed to blog for a very long time now. And I've meant to, really, truly and honestly. I've got a lot on my mind but deciding what to blog and what to leave out has given me cause to procrastinate. Also, my insane quest for perfectionism has also hampered publication of the last two edits of this post.

I've also been quite distracted by a little thing that starts with T, ends in R and has very little wit in the middle. I only joined because I'm a fan of 'Twilight' and Peter Facinelli. In deference to those who have little patience for all things Cullen, I will spare you the details.

Goodness, my perfectionistic streak has just hit overdrive and I'm tempted to start this post all over again. But you won't know will you? Because with one movement, I can delete this whole thing and you would be none the wiser. Can I resist temptation long enough to get this blog post out?

Back to twitter. I actually love it. A lot. Is that bad? Do I care if that's bad? And if I don't care if it's bad is that a sign that I should stop tweeting. Some people shouldn't tweet, at all. And it's definitely not for everyone. Personally, I find it quite interesting.

Aside: The word interesting is not that interesting a word, is it? It's used so often these days that it no longer conveys the weight of its original meaning. Thesaurus.com suggests the following synonyms, maybe I'll find a better word there. Maybe - appealing, entertaining, captivating, provocative. Perhaps engaging is the word I want but it's hardly exotic. Got it, prepossessing. Now, let's get back to the previous train of thought.

Yes, twitter is a prepossessing website. I've met so many genuine, engaging people (and my fair share of spambots) along the way. It's fired up my passion for photography and self expression and allowed me to be myself to greater degree than normal. Mostly because the people I follow and those who follow me don't usually know me in real life. If I needed to, I could disappear with little trace if something were to go cataclysmically wrong. Which I hope it never does. Though, due to my faith and my line of work, I must exercise some discretion in what I tweet openly. Google is never far away.

And it doesn't matter if you weren't the cool kid in class, because no-one knows your backstory unless you want to tell it. If you are that rare bird that wants to post your memoirs on-line, you'll have to chose your words very carefully. As an added incentive, it helps to know that Twitter is largely populated by geeks, nerds, tech-heads and ifails.

BTW, is uncoolness genetic? How are kids chosen to be uncool? Is it something I said or did that classified me as the uncool kid. Or do most kids feel uncool even if they are seen as the cool kids?

My thought processes have come to an abrupt end. I've so much to say but cannot remember the half of it. Darn it. If I remember what I wanted to say, I will edit this post or just simply make a new one. Well, to fill the gap and round off this blog, let me share a little pun that was far too long to tweet. And as much as I hate stating the obvious, I must say that no offense is intended.

Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced on impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail. And, with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him…(Oh, man, this is so bad, its good)…A super calloused fragile mystic vexed by halitosis.

Exactly as it should be

You wouldn't think that writing a blog could be so hard. Just sit and type. Let ideas take free form, flow where they want to. Follow them down undiscovered paths, winding beneath trees to a small stream. Jump the stream, wander up a hill, sit down and admire the view. But which ideas to set free? There are so many to choose from. I must have started this blog at least six times before now.

Today I've been thinking about celebrity, the time we take to track them down, learn about them, what would I say if I spoke to someone famous. But my daughter brought me up short and taught me a lesson I won't forget. While I was wondering about talking to complete strangers, and generally navel gazing (mine not anyone elses); she wanted to spend time with me. I'm not famous, but she wanted to know about me and play with me. She wouldn't know someone famous if they walked up to her and said hello. She would still only have eyes for me and crave my company. It's humbling and precious.

Let me get this straight - I was not neglecting my daughter in any way. We'd been to swimming lession, she was fed, clothed and contentedly watching Dora the Explorer (her favourite show). She was completely happy and didn't indicate any desire to play or read together. The enlightenment came when it was time to take her to day care for the afternoon. She loves going to day care and playing with her friends. She was so excited while we were getting ready. But when we got there, she burst into tears and said she wanted to stay at home with me. I tried to persuade her that playing with her friends would be much more exciting but, admittedly, I didn't try that hard. I missed her too. So we went and bought her a helmet (she just got a scooter the other day). Then we went home, had a rest and played with paper snow until Daddy got home. We had lots of cuddles and kisses before she went to sleep.

I had more fun this afternoon soaking up her company than I had all morning twittering and facebooking. It's something I'm determined not to forget. Her love and smiles are better than a hundred replies from famous strangers, no matter how good looking. Which is exactly how it should be.

Why am I here?

I've been thinking of starting a blog for a while now. Call it a mid-life crisis, a whim or some desire to be heard by others, I'm not actually sure of my motivation. I'll try my best to explain, please be patient with me. I see this blog as a little bit of a journal, as a cathartic, to get my thoughts out of my head and into some sort of organised form. I just can't get them straight in my head. Writing them out makes sense, then I can see them in black and white. Edit them, hone them, articulate them the best way that I can.

So why not the usual private paper diary? There are two main reasons, some little ones and a few that will probably make themselves clear over time. Paper is messy, I'll try to express something in writing but it might (usually) comes out all wrong. So I cross it out, but then the page is ruined, so I have to start again on a fresh page. I admit that it's obsessive but if I type out my thoughts, I can edit them without making a mess. Maybe I don't want to see evidence of my indecision.

Secondly, I think blogging will keep me from getting stuck in one place, with a single thought. Well, I'll get stuck but no-one else will know because I can easily hit delete before publishing the post. I'll need to be reasonably concise and keep the thought process going.

As to the little reasons for a blog, I might expand on them another time. Or not.

So, there's my first post done and ejected into the super-massive black hole of the internet. (Thanks Muse)
J