The Epiphany of the Lord
I always thought it was funny that they call this day “The Epiphany of the Lord.” It makes it sound like it was Jesus having a major eye opening moment or discovery, when actually it was Jesus being discovered by the wise men. It also makes me think giggly thoughts about what would be an epiphany to an infant (i.e. “Whoa, these pink soft things that keep waving in my face actually belong to me!” or “Milk!”). This, along with my belief that Jesus was incontinent for the first couple years of his life (leading to my favorite title of Mary: The Woman Who Potty Trained God), shows my Low Christology. If I were the High Christology type, I’d be one of those people who thinks Jesus popped out of the womb already able to walk & talk, but refrained from demonstrating his abilities out of consideration for Mary & Joseph’s nerves. No, really, that’s a real thing. Totally didn’t make that up. At all. And this is why I love theology, because it is the most fascinating, ridiculous, profound thing all at once, which is beautiful.
Now you know the kind of things that go through my head.
In other news, I have decided this winter that one of my Very Favorite Things In The Whole World are fleece lined tights. Those things are like snugly, cuddly magic, especially when I can tuck them into my new favorite boots – black leather, lace up that could go either granny or combat boot depending on how you work it, and sleek enough that my ankles still look nice. This morning I was very grateful for them as I kicked through ankle-deep snow cleaning the car off before I could head in to work. Ironically, the best fleece lined tights I’ve found are sold at the for-profit thrift store over on the East side of town by where my favorite Aldi’s used to be. They’re up in the front corner, by the counter full of slightly more tasteful (or at least potentially valuable) costume jewelry, and the racks of purses hanging from the ceiling that might or might not be actual designer goods. Though I shouldn’t mock – that’s the store where I bought a Kate Spade handbag for $3, and a Vera Wang sweater for $4. It makes me wonder if the people who buy things full price know that if they just waited a little, they could get the same thing at a roughly 99% discount. It also makes me almost incapable of shopping at malls. When you’re used to paying less than $5 for your jeans, the price of buying them new is stomach turning.
And now that we are officially on the 12th Day of Christmas, I can tell you that I’ve decided that Christmas smells like clementine peels and balsam fir. But only if you’ve just peeled the clementine.
Happy New Year, my dears. I’m back to blogging.