Being my own butler, Godzilla tore out my heart, and Wonder Challenges for your Christmas.
Three Things this week and a poem about Zechariah
If you have little ones in your home, the countdown to Christmas is on! It’s fun to relive childhood through the eyes of our kids. I’m grateful for these sweet moments of anticipation, circled toys on the pages of catalogues, and daily advent readings that come with chocolates.
With t-minus 8 days, I hope you’re checking your lists and crossing items off them as you approach the big day.
Merry Christmas to you, and thanks for spending part of your weekend with Things I Wrote Down.
Things I Wrote Down is for readers like you. Join the fun.
1. Be your own Butler
I’ve been prepping the coffee pot every night this past week to brew at 6:20 am every morning after seeing this tweet by The Art of Manliness. It makes so much sense.
You don’t really need to read the article, just look at this infographic below to capture the genius of the concept: What can I do now that will serve me tomorrow or at some point in the future?
All I need to do is start dropping $5 bills in my coat pockets to tip myself in the future. Here’s the full article.
2. Godzilla Minus One for your plus one
I went with friends to the new Godzilla movie. Godzilla Minus One blew me away. I’m not big into monster flicks but really enjoyed this one.
I agree with Leslie Felperin from The Guardian who writes that this Godzilla film works because:
it puts the trauma of history at the very centre of the story, ultimately crafting a story about human beings pulling together to heal and defeat an inexplicable force of destruction.
It’s surprisingly touching with great character development, wonderful performances, and a powerful statement about life. The film is set in Japan in the days after Work War II as the nation recovers after nuclear war.
Am I supposed to be crying in a monster flick? There are real human moments! If you can do subtitles and disaster, you’ll enjoy the film.
3. Advent readings you can listen to
I normally aim to point elsewhere on the web in my weekly link round up, but I don’t want you to miss out on Hearts Adorned with Wonder, the three-part advent series I shared this week on Things I Said Out Loud.
They’re adapted from my popular YouVersion devotional and each day comes with a short Wonder Challenge that will help you and your family tap into the meaning of the season amidst all the busyness.
You can listen to the readings here or wherever else you listen to podcasts. Each reading is 5 minutes.
This week’s poem is from my Christmas archive.
I love the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth, the parents of John the Baptist. The poem he announces when his 9-month bout of muteness ends is one of the most glorious and holds one of my favourite verses in scripture.1
Concerning Zechariah Zechariah said to the angel, “How will I know that it is so?” — Luke 1:18 How long did he wait in that quiet chamber thump of terror in his chest the only sound to register after the thunderous voice ceased, the flesh of his tongue made fleet the collision with heaven tipping him, nearly to the floor, with rebuke, with triumph How often did he relive the confluence of events that ushered him to the fateful moment: stepping from the threshold of his simple home the long walk through the hill country with his kin the litany of songs announcing their careful approach to the City and its dazzling temple the measured, ritual movements of washing, sacrifice, of drawing of lots his sombre march across the courtyard wide berth beyond the Sea of Bronze entering the sanctuary to stand before the altar How soon after he threw the finely scented spices upon the flames—every prayer uttered and screamed, thrown helplessly or hopefully at God-still-hidden including the singular request of his sweet wife offered every day since they married— how soon after the incense arose did the angel leave the Presence sweep aside the sumptuous veil, to utter his message five unbelievable words: your prayer has been heard and the litany of promises too pleasant to taste, too wonderful to claim How quickly, decade after barren decade the answer came — Christmas 2015, © Andrew Kooman