Dust off your picnic baskets and break out the summer t-shirts, folks, because the high temp for today in good ole Lincoln is SIXTY-SIX DEGREES. Not one flurry of snow has fallen from the sky this month. Not a one.

I’m loving this.

I am just heartsick at the daily news of deaths from the Indian Ocean’s tsunamis. So many people dead in this disaster, the numbers are simply staggering. I am reminded of how devastated our country was on September 11, 2001, and then think about that number of victims times ten. How does a country, much less a world region, recover from this? May God have mercy on them and may the rest of us be gracious in assistance.

Even though we have no snow and my cookies turned out like dog biscuits, this Christmas season has really been quite lovely. I love our tree and all the decorations around the house and dread taking them all down, which means the return to a normal, un-festive house. Well, that’s not entirely true. We like the way some lights look (large round bulbs from Target), so I think they’ll be staying up. The fish in the above picture will be wrapped in tissue paper and placed back in a large Rubbermaid tub to await the Christmas season of 2005. He looks happy swimming in our tree, I think.

Not truly a Christmas wish (hey, I needed a rhyming word), this sunset was a bold and beautiful red a week ago. My camera ended up with ziggy lines, not the way I normally like photos, but the color more than makes up for it. I’m grateful for a house perched on a small hill in front of a park so we can see more of the skyline on nights like this.

Finally, a Christmas dish. This salad beautifully decorated the Lawton table on Christmas Day. I get hungry just looking at this dish that Andrew created. Every once in a while we get to see how his days as a cook have paid off… Mm, mm good.

Wow. And I thought things like this only happened in the movies. Note to self: If asked by a “leather goods importer” to play “courier” for “leather samples” from Islamabad, Pakistan, to the United States, just say no.

Greetings, friends, from beautiful, sunny Lincoln, Nebraska! We’ve traded in snow for 50 degree weather and it has made for a wonderful Christmas Day. I hope you all are enjoying family and friends, presents and lots of joy today.

Love to you all!

Today, like most other days, I am balancing pessimism and optimism.

I spent much of the afternoon baking and decorating sugar cookies to give to my neighbors. My brother Andrew was gracious enough (okay, maybe he was bored) to both keep me company and help bake and decorate, and at some point I realized that we were having a supposed idyllic moment that one often reads of on blogs: “Though the temperature outside hovered around 8 degrees, we were warm and cozy in the kitchen, baking batch upon batch of sugared Christmas cookies while listening to classic carols crooned by Bing and Ella.” The truth is that we had a decent time, Andrew always livens things up, but the idyllic kitchen scene didn’t hold true. I felt pressured to get the cookies done in time for Christmas Eve and had slept part of the morning away after staying up too late the night before. Instead of enjoying the warm coziness of the kitchen, I saw a mass of dough that was too dry, piles of dishes caked with sugar and eggs, and eventually, cookies that had far more in common with dog biscuits than the light, airy concoctions I was aiming for. At some point I began to lighten up and enjoy the process, and I realized that idyllic picture in my head is never entirely true. Someone may indeed have had a wonderful day of Christmas shopping—but they neglected to mention the frenzied last-minute shopper crowd, the bumper-to-bumper traffic and the frustration of not finding just the right color sweater in just the right size. Or another may have enjoyed a lovely service at church—but they chose not to remember the wiggly whispering toddler in the pew behind them, the overbearing perfume of the elder’s wife in front of them and the long-winded message given by the pastor.

I believe there is some sort of balance I need to find between the half-full and half-empty. I don’t want to see only a dirty stable filled with stinky animals on a breezy night in the rural town in Judea. I also don’t want to focus soley on the glorious star and the heralding heavenly host. I want to soak in the entire scene. The father and young mother, giving birth to a baby after a long trip back home to register for a census. The shepherds, keeping their sheep safe on a normal night, normal until angels appear in the sky, singing and praising God and pointing them toward Bethlehem. The magi, following that eastern star in order to worship at the feet of the one just born king of the Jews. Herod, furious that another might dare to challenge his authority. In my mind’s eye I want to see this scene in all its glory and earthiness. I want to understand Jesus Christ the son of God, Savior of the world, and Jesus Christ the son of Joseph, carpenter in the line of David. I want to rejoice in His birth and praise Him for taking away the sins of the world—for continuing to love me despite my persistant negativity. So I will. Rejoice, that is. I will eat my dry cookies, work in my dirty kitchen, and sing with joy for Christ has come. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.

If you like the musical, you’ll like the movie. If not, save yourself a few bucks and a few complaints. I LOVED it. (Pssst, Sweetie. I’m still laughing about the time you leaned across the table at the Rococo Theatre after two songs of Jekyll & Hyde and oh so innocently asked, “Is this a musical?”)

Happy 33rd Anniversary, Mom and Dad! You are a great example to us. We love you very much!

I understand that Lincoln needs a new convention center/arena to bring more business into the city. Obviously, Pershing Auditorium (where I witnessed DC Talk, the Harlem Globetrotters and my own high school graduation—not at the same time, however, but wouldn’t that have been fun?) is outdated and ill-equipped. My question is this: Why not tear down Pershing and build a new venue in its place? I’m concerned about the prospect of creating a new, unsightly, unwieldy convention center in our quaint historic Haymarket district. If the new structure could somehow fit in aesthetically with the bricked streets and train station, though, perhaps it would be a good idea.

What say you, Lincolnites?