Sorry, there's just something in my eye....

This will be my eighth consecutive Christmas without seeing members of the Hurd family on or around the actual day. Christmas at my house was always magical. Oh sure we always had to get up early to the sound of Mom swearing at us about doing our part to get things ready. And yes sometimes there were unavoidable catastrophes like Dad breaking the built in counter top cutting board with a rutabaga.(Which in Canada is called a turnip)And inevitably I would always eat too much and get a stomachache and spend the evening lying on the couch wishing for a quick death.
But the holidays are awash with memory for me, real or imagined I don't know. I remember waking at 3am one Christmas and amusing myself with the contents of my overstuffed stocking.(Which had been placed there only a couple hours earlier) I remember unwrapping my biggest gift under the tree on Christmas Eve and being disappointed that it was a winter coat. I remember my first taste of eggnog as Dad and I sat there in our pajamas. I remember filling four trash bags with paper after unwrapping an embarrassing number of gifts. I remember Christmas Eves with a different number of guests each year, depending on who was in town. I remember watering the tree and picking needles off the back of my shirt for hours. I remember the year we got a VCR and a new TV and watching every new station like we had never seen anything so beautiful. My favorite churchy part of Christmas was the Candlelight Carol Sing on the last Sunday before Christmas. We never went to Christmas Eve services so this was the goosebumpy focus on Jesus time for me. It was always so peaceful, loving and moving. I love Christmas Music too. It just seems like better music was written around this holiday than any other. My all-time favorites? O holy night and the little drummer boy. Take a moment this season and think about what you want your kid to be writing about in the years to come. I know I wouldn't trade my Christmas memories for anything. Well, maybe season tickets to the Blue Jackets.

Something for everyone

Here's an interesting tidbit. They must have grown people smaller back in the seventies because I can't fit into the little space they have for the urinals in the old part of our church. I'm serious, there must be like two feet max in between the metal partitions separating the two urinals. I feel like I'm an NFL lineman every time I go to take a pee. I don't know if anyone else has experienced explosive diarrhea in their lifetime but when you do sometimes you can, through no fault of your own, cause errant turd to get on areas of your toilet you would never expect to find poo. This is disturbing because you can go a few days without discovering it. Then you're embarrassed for some reason like you could have possibly prevented it.

Topic #5 Why is sin so enjoyable?

I only ask on my own behalf. I may get ten responses telling me that sin is not enjoyable at all. But in my experience, part of the reason I do not readily give up sin is that it affords me pleasure of some kind. Physical, emotional or mental. I get a high from doing the wrong thing. I wish I hated my sin more. Ive heard and read that once you genuinely hate sin and what it does to you and keeps you from becoming, that is when your relationship with God moves to a whole new level of commitment and enthusiasm.
How can I muster that hatred? It makes sense in my head that when I lie it is affecting those around me and yet.... It occurs to me that when I view inappropriate content that it is likely someone's future wife or at least someone's daughter that is being objectified in a terrible way. I have a little girl now! And yet that only gives me a moment's pause when I make the choice to sin or not. When I choose some random crap I don't even like on TV over spending quality time with my savior, I take selfishness to a whole new level. And yet it is still more pleasing to me than doing the right thing. So again I ask, why - in my brain - does it feel so good to be so bad? Ultimately, it doesn't matter. Either I'll recognize sin for what it is or spend the rest of my life facing the consequences. Pleasurable or not, sin will take me one place and it stands opposed to everything my God holds dear. I can say "Yeah but it's hard to not _____" for so many things. The walk is hard brother. Christian morality ain't for sissies.