A little background context: it is 00:14, I am not tired at all, I had cliche-ed emotions at the airport this morning due to the departure of the American, and I have wanted to recommence blogging, and particularly to start writing more about Christianity. I became a disciple of Christ in February 2013 and because of this Christmas season, I want to get into it a little. I have ideas for the new year, but this is going to be a quick background into how I became a Christian, some musings on my first Christmas as a believer, and some seasonal scripture. For previous writings on faith, see here, here, and here.
I started reading the Bible in February 2013, declared myself a Christian on Ash Wednesday, and had found my church home by chance within ten days of that. I spent the next six months attending Sunday service, going to a weekly study/discussion group, and power reading my way through the 66 days of the Bible, a task I felt I had to complete before getting baptised. I was baptised on September 1 2013. My baptism was one of the most exciting, nervous, laughing-tears days of my adult life. I could wax lyrical about my journey to baptism, my life before Christ, and my love of Jesus, but it is summed up pretty well in the video below.
I will explore my thoughts on Christmas more tomorrow, but what I want to leave you with today is this. Amongst all the hype and the money spending and the sparkles and lights and such, we get to celebrate that a little boy was born into poverty, to teenage parents, who had to travel hundreds of miles, and then escape to another country to avoid slaughter, and in spite of all of this, was the Son of God. We see purpose and planning and perseverance, a feat truly worthy of worship.