018//christmas, christmas, christmas, christmas.

Anyone been to a mall these days? It's hard to have faith in mankind around this time of year. But I've decided to not let it get me down. I'm normally not a fan of malls to begin with; I've gone on many rants about the level of caring that occurs at malls. One morning I was walking for some bubble tea with Alison and Erin, and I went into one of these rants. I guess it struck a chord with them, because the next thing I knew they were telling me about how they had an interesting experience at the mall. I guess they sat in the food court and just talked with people. Consider how detached we're all becoming, it's cool to hear of people actually reaching out to people, hearing stories, telling stories, living live in community.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm just as bad as the rest of us trendy post-modernists. As I write, I'm in a coffee shop, with my headphones on, trying my hardest not to interact with anyone. In my defense, it is early in the morning, and I've only ingested a small amount of egg nog, and a large amount of coffee, so my breath is probably not at it's best scent. Regardless, what is stopping me from going to someone's table, sitting down, introducing myself, and meeting someone new? Is it pride? Embarrassment? I don't consider myself to be an incredibly prideful person, and I can't say I get embarrassed very easily. Maybe I care too much about what people think of me. I wish I had the assertiveness of those girls, but I guess it's something that I can work on.

Now, another thought has come into my mind these days, which has to do with the conundrum of a distant love. This way of thinking really struck me last year, during a worship service at school. I was sitting closer to the front, which is a pretty rare occurrence to begin with, but I found it really amazing to hear everyone singing from behind me. So I have this epic choir singing behind me, and when we got to this one line, I was really struck by this thought of distant love. "Jesus, I am so in love with you." As we sang it, I was stopped dead in my tracks. All these people singing their hearts out, but how many of us really mean that line when we sing it. I was overcome with guilt, and I had this thought staring me right in the face: I am not "so in love" with Jesus. I mean, it's something that I think we're all working on, but having 150, or so, people singing that from behind me really made me wonder whether all those people had it figured out. How can we love someone, or something, when we can't experience them, or it, with our senses. Too many of us have experienced a long distance relationship, which is one of the most trying relationships that we can experience. How much different from a long distance relationship is our relationship with Christ? Something to think about I suppose.

This whole distant love idea was inspired by some words that came out of me a few weeks ago.

The tip of my tongue is tapping the keys in four four time, clicking away filler words that fill up this blank white box. My mind's rambles rumble behind my eyes, trembling at the thought of the next few weeks.

Brown boxes are being packed up, the smell of old cardboard fills up the air; the aroma of leaving. I lost track of you last night, and I've forgotten whether it's today or tomorrow when you'll be gone, but I guess it doesn't make a difference. On a Friday, you'll be gone, far from my outstretched arms. A province away; a life away.

The ground is still wet from last night's pitiful attempt at snow. Cold enough for a scarf, but so warm that it's basically falling slush. We waited outside the theatre, for nothing, catching these temporary snowflakes in our temporary mouths. Trying to fill a void with some sort of thin air. Maybe there will be more snow for Christmas, maybe you'll dream of my hands on a cold winter's night. It's just like that song I sang you once. I thought those might have been tears in your eyes, but it was too dark, and I had already drank too much wine.

And where are we now? Separated by mounds of earth, rock and water, connected only by these weak signals. A friend once told me that no matter what sort of distance exists, if love is true, it can transcend anything. I'd say I agree with that, but agreeing doesn't necessarily make things easier. This common trend is frustrating, but maybe that's what love really is: being able to love in spite of whatever distance exists, whether it's a physical distance, an emotional distance, or a spiritual distance.

Have a good Christmas, try not to get too bogged down in the bad aspects of it.

Jamison.