Christmas healing

I had a long talk this evening with Jenniffer, one of my best friends from college. We always get into deep conversations about life, love and the mysteries of it all. She is one of the wisest people I know. She told me living well is the best revenge, and I've always heard that but for some reason tonight I'm more motivated than ever to put that into practice. We also talked about love in First Corinthians:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.
When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Sunday at the 'rents

After enough of my sisters moved out in the early 90s - around the same time we came up with "the 'rents " as a nickname for "our parents" and thought it was hysterical - my parents turned an upstairs bedroom into an office, where I spent hours in middle and high school writing papers. Even on cold nights while I was living at home, I flipped on the space heater and sat in front of it reading. My father keeps his books here so I'm never without reading material when I want to retreat somewhere familiar, comfortable and safe. I feel that a part of my soul is here too, and when this office someday ceases to exist after "the 'rents" and my brothers move, that part of my soul will still thrive in the memories of this room. Right now I'm writing this post while mom bakes chicken and rice downstairs. It smells delicious. Dinner starts in a few minutes. I decided to stay and eat so I could light the four candles in the Advent wreath, since this is the fourth Sunday of Advent. It's a family tradition to light Advent candles before dinner each night during the Holy Season of Advent. After dinner I hope to bake my Christmas cookies. I stopped by a few days ago to bake dough and I kept it in their refrigerator. While I bake, the 'rents will be in the family room with my brothers watching a video. They'll shut the door so I don't hear Joseph scream. I always do though because these walls aren't thick enough to block out those sounds.