7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.
We were legally declared righteous, while still in our sinning condition. No one can reverse this transaction and make us guilty again. To doubt our blameless standing in Christ is to declare His atonement insufficient to cover our sin.
Let’s see, where did I write about my last Christmas? I must have misplaced it. It’s probably better off that way.
Every Christmas, Christmas Eve to be specific, I write about my “feelings.” It always feels like I should.
I haven’t spent a Christmas with my family in El Salvador since 2007. It was my grandpa’s last Christmas. But that’s okay. He’s somewhere better.
Yesterday, my sister and I were assigned to go to a family in need’s home. We took toys and clothing for them. We also preached to them about the word of God. I couldn’t help but to feel amazingly grateful because of everything I have. I didn’t mean to feel bad for them, but I suppose it’s just natural and/or logical to do so?
Today, I refuse to feel sad. I refuse to give in to my memories. I am here for a reason, and I don’t quite know what it is, but I’m okay with that.
My dad is sick today. I don’t like it when he’s sick. I feel like he, aside from my mom, is the strongest person in my life, and when he’s sick, it just doesn’t make sense to me, and I wish I could do everything to make him feel better, but I can’t =/
It doesn’t feel like Christmas yet. It’s silly to say it’ll feel like so tomorrow. I’ll open my gifts, smile because I’m grateful for them, and get ready to go to church and hopefully make my little ones smile with the gifts I got them. I know they would be disappointed because they’re not getting any toys from the church this year, as they were given away to kids in need. They don’t understand yet that others need it more than they do. But I want to make their Christmas tradition last.
I was asked about those today.
Christmas Traditions - you better be home. It doesn’t matter if we don’t celebrate, you have to be home. This is how we celebrate. We know we’re close to each other. Close enough to know we’re here. Because even if we’re not in the same room, we still take it to heart if one of us is missing.
I know my little cousin is reading this, or will read it sooner or later. I love having her around for Christmas. She keeps me going with my traditions. Her mom? Out partying. Her dad? Sure.
Where are they? Why aren’t they spending this special night with their daughter?
I don’t understand.
I hope she doesn’t mind too much.
It’s hard having a blast when you’re a kid and then being taken away from all of that, holiday by holiday.
At least if she grows up without expectations, she won’t be disappointed.
I want to cry. I don’t know why.
I miss my childhood, I suppose.
I miss those times when my mother would be excited for the holidays,
and I miss those times when my dad…nevermind. We never really spent a Christmas together. Maybe when I was like, a year old. In those pictures, I think. I don’t know. I don’t remember.
Needless to say, I don’t think I have memories of a favorite Christmas. I don’t have memories of a favorite holiday. I don’t have memories of a favorite birthday either.
I also know that, and a lot of people say they will but they really don’t, when I am out on my own out there; when I have my own place and my own family, I will keep traditions. I will embrace holidays. I will pass on things with meaning, and I will photograph these things. Because I want my children to have memories. Good memories.