| Of a year gone by and family |

As last years studies gave way to summer classes, and summer classes gave way to fall classes, and fall classes eventually gave way to Christmas break, I can look back on the year past and be glad for so much. Beyond being my graduating year (finally), I'm just so glad for family. Perhaps it's cliché to say, but the prayerful support and endless encouragement from my wife and best friend Emily and from my wonderful parents (all of you) has meant so much this year. This year especially - I would say - for this year has been busy and bumpy, cluttered and chaotic, like moguls and like big air. It has been a year to remember for God has done so much good, and He is truly working in Emily and I for some pretty gnarly things (that's right, I said gnarly). It has also been a year to forget as there has been growing hurt and resentment amidst loved ones.

Yet in the midst of it all, this cast of family has been so supportive. Even though visits have been fewer, and family seems so far away at times, we persevere knowing that our families love us and are proud of us.

And it wouldn't be a Christmas blog if I didn't tie it into the birth narrative of the Saviour. The child Immanuel, come to dwell among us, to save us, to proclaim freedom to the captive, sight for the blind, healing for the sick; all to welcome us into His family.

Well, back to work. Another hour and a half of Christmas Day at work. Thanks for reading.

| Making time for tears |

In the last week I've rekindled my long lost love for music. I'm the type of person who can go long periods of time without really listening to any music. Today, while driving in the car, I happened upon Hello Kelly's No Time for Tears, a song about the effects of a broken home and broken family.

Lead singer and writer Francois Goudreault of Hello Kelly writes this piece from the first person, depicting the breakdown of vows and promises while he himself has no time for tears. Expectations mount and troubles reach record highs, yet he is unable to truly mourn the situation. He's so caught up in it all as he's the product of a segmented family where both parties put forth their best effort for normalcy.

During the bridge of the song, he writes,

I can't blame you it's not your fault, you've thrown away this time.

I can't blame you it's not your fault, and everything you have is dying.

You can't blame me it's not my fault, and God knows that I've tried.

You can't blame me it's not my fault, and it's not on me to make this right.

Lately I find myself so willing to throw blame around. People in my life have caused so much hurt to those around me. The ugly nature of divorce is that there is blame and hurt, but ultimately it's simply a situation wherein all parties experience pain and all are in need of forgiveness. However, Francois so beautifully articulates that it's not on the child to make it right. Ultimately, parents have to step up and show their children that they love them.

I fully intend to be the sort of dad who loves recklessly to the point of irrational pursuit. For me, I model this off of God's unfailing and unceasing pursuit of his children. But I'm not perfect and I'll inevitably fall short. The important thing is that I never give up pursuing; love does not give up.

While Francois entitles this song No Time for Tears, I think that tears are so important for the process of mourning and moving on. I might even say forgiveness hinges on the ability to really mourn something and then let it go. Making time for tears is needed.

Cheers.

Here is a link to the full lyrics:

http://www.newreleasetuesday.com/lyricsdetail.php?lyrics_id=42039

Here is a link to the full song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkX4bG0kvh0

| Of broken telephones |

While I may have one of my most daunting exams ahead of me, my mind is not quite focused on the course material right now. In fact, I cannot quite get over how very interesting social habits are, especially within certain circles. I cannot fathom the necessity for talking about people behind their backs when those same people would love to engage in a conversation to clear things up and to bring healing. (I'm speaking intentionally in generalities here, not wanting to single out my intended recipient...but you know who you are.)

I simply must vent. I think that is the problem. We all feel an internal desire to express ourselves. When frustration mounts to a boiling point, we simply must blow off steam. When life is overwhelming we find someone to talk to or to find support from. Yet I wonder why it's not possible to go to the root of this mounting frustration and simply deal with the problem. It seems altogether rational for this type of approach.

Alas, this is not the case. And I find myself the source of slander and slur alike. Like wildfire, people casually (yet secretively) pass on the hearsay; like a game of broken telephone, the message changes slightly with each transaction.

But this I know: I'm here. I have a phone, and it's not broken. I have many ways to be reached. If you harbour ill feelings for me, let's talk.

That's all.

| Of headaches and helpful hints |

I have a headache.

It's the type of headache that beats to a slow monotonous pulsating beat in the back of the head.

I'm also not the type to take medication for things of this nature. I usually try to determine the cause of the headache before I resort to any external solution. Whether it be dehydration, fatigue, or that my eyes are sensitive to too much light, there are simple non-medicinal solutions to these problems. Water, sleep, or a little shut-eye, these always seem to help.

But I've downed three or four glasses of water, and I've tried to have a nap, yet nothing is working. Thus, fast-action-Tylenol it is. And while I was lying there trying to have a nap post-pill consumption, the thought came to me: this pain is my body's way of telling me something isn't right. It's not groundbreaking thought, but it gave way to many others that I think are pretty thought provoking.

Humans in this day and age are all about instant gratification. Physically we want fast-weight-loss. Emotionally we want a good book that quenches the thirst of the soul. Spiritually we want our dose of God once a week that keeps us in check, but doesn't impose on our lives. But we all experience pain. It's how we deal with this pain that interests me most. For most of us, our knee-jerk reaction is to dull the pain. I'm speaking first of physical pain - like that of a headache - but this of course is indicative of how we treat emotional and spiritual pain as well. When physical pain strikes, we try our best to relieve the pain - often by medical means - but sometimes by natural means. We are uncomfortable with pain; we are not designed to enjoy suffering. But I'm not so sure we're meant to rid ourselves of all pain.

Even after contemplating Brave New World anew, the idea of a pain-relief drug with no side-effects, hangover, or consequences, does not appeal to me in any way. And I must wonder why. Perhaps I haven't experienced the excruciating headache that is debilitating and keeps me up all night. I've never broken a bone or had an injury that truly incapacitated me. But pain is a gift. It's one of the ways our bodies tell us that something is amiss, that something is wrong and in need of a checkup. And if this is the way our bodies communicate to us physically, surely this is also the way we are let in on our emotional and spiritual deficiencies. Whether it be guilt, grief, or loneliness, pain tells us that something isn't quite right.

But I wonder - like our treatment of headaches - how we treat our spiritual and emotional pain. Do we become apathetic toward it, hoping that one day it will just go away? Do we lash out on others hoping that this will somehow hurt others and even the playing field? Do we slap an Oprah or Dr. Phil bandaid on it and hope for the best, knowing full well that a simple self-help solution will only cover up the infected wound that is festering and mutating? Do we really believe that the pain we are in will just go away with time?

It's time to tell ourselves that there is only one healer in this world. He is the one who, by his hands and his voice, created the very world we see. He created human beings, knowing the intricacies of flesh, mind, and spirit, and only he is capable of truly resolving the source of pain in your life. He's what we christians call God. Maybe you know him.