I'm brave...or desperate

It's Christmas Eve, and I am about to go shopping. I have to. For one, I just simply don't have all my presents yet; for two, Peter, Elizabeth, Amy, Glorie, and Elizabeth's gifts got here last night. Under our tree is the prettiest sight you've ever seen. Seeing her presents under there makes me want to buy a gajillion pretty, shiny presents. It's just so exciting! We'll see what happens.

There is an oven repairman in the kitchen trading stories with my dad of all the crazy stuff he's seen. Like a lady whose house was so full of gas from a leak that it could have blown up with one little spark. Or when he was on an airplane and the engine fell off. He's currently convincing me that Chicago accents do exist. And I'm starting to remember what it sounds like. Somehow, with my parents from California, I escaped my provincial sound.

Lastly, let me say that I want to be like Jesus. I was reading Colossians this morning, where it says to put on compassion, kindness, humility, meekness... And those are all the way Jesus' heart is towards us. I want to see people and love them. I want to understand people and be discerning.

A few months ago, I was with my dad at Sam's Club, and we were buying a pretzel. I hardly noticed anything weird. Once we finished, my dad pointed out to me that the girl who had been helping us had only looked at me the whole time, never at my dad. He said how she has probably been deeply hurt by men and now can't relate to them. That made me think: I want to be able to discern things like that and see those people and see their brokenness. I don't want to be scared away by their hurt and brokenness. Sometimes that's a big deal; I want to stand there and see and then care. People matter to Jesus, and I want them to matter to me.