Christy's 2009 Christmas letter

Dear family and friends,

Just as with a magazine I’d edit, all through the year I think about what events or feelings should go into the annual Christmas letter. (Um, by the way, this blog and emails are it. Can’t afford sending letters this year by snail mail.) This has been my annus horribilis, a horrible year. Perhaps for this letter I should have tried writing fiction for the first time ever. But instead, I’ll just skim over the negative and end up with the real joy that I’ve discovered.

Last winter, I had a severe bout of cellulitis in my left leg, requiring both outpatient treatment and hospitalization. There was a huge load of stress at work, mostly caused by the boss, so there was nothing to do in this economy but accept the treatment until he laid me off (with one-third of the other employees) in June. Their donations from publications and the website dropped precipitously when I left. We were told we’d be able to collect unemployment compensation, but because of legal issues between the employer and the state, it wasn't possible. I’ve existed on savings from the vacation I did not take in 2008, plus a savings account for emergencies (such as this one). The up-and-down hopes and appeals for compensation have torn me to bits. That’s not good when one has no health insurance. I have several wonderful friends who are losing homes, and have had deaths in their family, or had to move and start their lives over. I’ve never cried as often for what we’ve experienced as this year. Finance is not the worst of it. But it certainly ranks up there! (Or would that be down there?)

The unemployment rate in this area of southern California is 15%, and there are no jobs whatever in my profession for 100 miles around. The taxes and cost of living are outrageous here. There are jobs posted in Phoenix, my native city, and I’ve been applying for them since July 1; however, there are no “bites” on my résumé and applications, perhaps because there are hundreds of applicants, or because I’m not local. Phoenix has an unemployment rate of “only” 10%. Woo-hoo, better odds! After nearly 13 years in this area, I’ve decided to sell my home, where I’ve put down roots with the trees I’ve planted and tended, and move back to Phoenix, where my roots actually go down to the water table! Not being “underwater” on the mortgage, I’ll make a small profit if the house sells within a month or two, and it’s quite likely to do so. Moving means severing ties and saying goodbye to people, places, and experiences, but it's also "shalom" to follow what I believe is God's directive. This is a new life I'm entering.

The preceding paragraphs are an abridged/condensed/compacted version of the annus horribilis, and there’s a detailed, not-sweet story behind everything. But now on to the good stuff!

Christy’s Year in Review

1. January - Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight.

2. February - Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels... “duh”...bottles won't fit in typewriter!

3. March - Got excited...finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months...box said “2-4 years!”

4. April - Trapped on escalator for hours...power went out!

5. May - Tried to make Kool-Aid...8 cups of water won't fit into those little packets!

6. June - Tried to go water skiing...couldn't find a lake with a slope.

7. July - Lost breast stroke swimming competition...learned later, other swimmers cheated—they used their arms!

8. August - Got locked out of car in rain storm...car swamped, because top was down.

9. September - The capital of California is “C”...isn't it?

10. October - Hate M&Ms...they are so hard to peel.

11. November - Baked turkey for 4 ½ days...instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108!

12. December - Couldn't call 911... “duh”...there's no “eleven” button on the phone!

Wow, do I ever feel blonde. Luckily for me, my blonde is from a custom paste carefully applied by Gina, my stylist. When my head is covered in aluminum foil, I can block dogmatic political commentary—and see Arizona from my porch. (Maybe it’s the ammonia fumes…)



Actually, in spite of all the trouble of 2009, there were some amazing, inspiring times. The daily devotional book that I developed, edited, wrote much of, and self-published in 2005, was accepted (with kudos) by Review & Herald Publishing for hardcover in 2010, as I learned one week before my layoff. It's written non-denominationally, so all of you will enjoy it without feeling preached at. For those of you who contributed essays to the book, YAY for you, too! I wrote about 92 original essays and rewrote many others, Laura wrote about 30, and Lorelei was right behind her. Although 95% of my editing and writing were done at home on evenings and weekends, there will be no royalties, as I did it under the aegis of my former employer. Just last week, I spent 12 hours on final edits. My name will be on the cover and is on the Library of Congress card!!! That’s right. “Robinson, Christy K., 1958– .” (Blimey, if certain people had their way, there would be a closing date.) Scores of articles like the ones in the book are posted here on this blog. If you like the site, bookmark it! Later in the year, when the book is available, I'll place a link to a bookstore on this blog.



My mother’s three siblings, with whom I’d had extremely limited contact after she died in 1993, had a reunion at the Morro Bay (central California) home of Great-Uncle Russell and Mary Stone, with several other cousins. It was the most incredible blessing to meet and enjoy these people for the first time (for me) since 1980. I got to represent my mom and saw relationships reconciled. Cousin Sharron makes spaghetti the same way Mom did, with green olives. Lloyd is a game and border warden with a biography written about him. David has his church praying for me. Harriet has the most beautiful spirit, and we’ve become close with email and Facebook. Terry took us on a coastal adventure to see elephant seals, and we had the perfect day to bond. Ray wore a shirt that says, “I’m really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me” –and we did, so all is well. I scanned and digitally restored the faded photos we shared at the reunion, so we have photos from as early as 1913 on our respective computers.

There were other friendships established this year, that have been life-changing for me. Other relationships deepened as we shared our joys and troubles by phone and email. I visited Phoenix and stayed with (brother) Brian and Stacey several times and had a great time with friends at churches, parties, concerts, restaurants, and four-wheeling. Dad and Susanne live four months in Phoenix and eight in Pennsylvania, and came to California for a weekend last March. I got to see Uncle Ted and Aunt Carolyn Berkland in Phoenix just a couple months before Ted passed away. My niece Rachel spent three weeks with me in June, and we went to the beach, did some clothes and books shopping, went to a movie, and hung out at Redlands Market Night twice. She did some volunteer work (researching youth issues) for the marketing department at my employer. I attended nephew Jake’s farewell party when the well-mannered, buff 18-year-old went off to Army boot camp.

Since my June layoff, I learned that people I liked and loved very much already, but who I suspected were mildly fond of me, were true friends with loving hearts. They have supported me with daily prayer. Phone calls, emails and Facebook chats. Encouragement. Embraces. Advice and wisdom. Submitting my résumé in situ with glowing personal recommendation. Gifts of author-inscribed books. Taking me out for dinner and a movie. Making music with me. Throwing a proper English “tea.” Meeting for coffee. Helping with my home repairs. Enjoying time together. Pet-sitting while I was in Phoenix. Defending my reputation when I was falsely accused. Inviting me into your home for holidays. Making offers that were beyond my imagination. Gifts of money and groceries. And lately, anonymous moneygrams have landed in my mailbox. I cannot tell you how much you have done to heal my wounds. Thank you for not abandoning or forgetting me when I’m uncool and feeling unwanted and rejected. Whatever your religious/agnostic background, I truly believe that my God whispered to you and you heard. You acted with his heart and his arms, and I cherish your friendship and ministry.



I thank God for your caring attitude and actions. May you enjoy this Christmas season with family, good friends, good health, and a warm heart. And may that feeling carry you through next year’s ups and downs with the assurance that you are never alone—not with that divine whisper in your heart, and not with me praying blessings for you!



XXXOOO,

Christy K. Robinson

Evie (dog), Mali and Smetana (cats)

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How to change the world

A grain of sand is tiny and insignificant. If you have a few grains in your shoe, you might form a blister. If you inject sand into an oyster, you’ll harvest a pearl. If you bite into your fire-grilled, condiment-topped hot dog at the beach, you’ll grind sand between your teeth. When swimming in Lake Powell (Arizona-Utah border), you can rub the fine sand off the red sandstone canyon walls ad infinitum and fill the lake – and your swimsuit! – with more colorful sediment.

When walking in soft, dry sand, the going is laborious. When you try to sleep on it, it’s nearly impossible to get comfortable. After all, each grain of sand is a microscopic rock, broken away from its parent stone and carried by wind or water. Our planet is made of rock, and its grains are everywhere, innumerable.

Love is like that. Each kind word or compliment, each supportive act, each accommodation made for another – seems to stand alone. But over time and with enough repetition and replication, those grains of sand accumulate. Together, they’re immeasurable and infinitely vast.

It’s been said that for each criticism, insult, act of disrespect or disregard, it takes a minimum of four praises to counteract the negativity – just to return to the baseline. To make a comeback and truly succeed, the ratio is much higher, in the double digits. Which do you find more motivational for good deeds: an accusation of your faults, major and minor, and a recital of past behavior; or the pointing out of your victory, your handling of a sticky situation, your kindness noted, or even that someone awarded you the Best-Person-of-Their-Day hug?

After a drought, all it takes is a short rain shower to send plants rocketing skyward, bursting into bloom – and it takes only a bit of searing heat to wilt and destroy. Similarly, in a world where sterility, isolation, judgment and criticism may too often be the norm, what is desperately needed is acceptance, a warm touch, caring words, loyalty, and fidelity. We’re starving for support, encouragement, trust, and the acceptance of a loving family.

The ministry where I work has for years conducted an intercessory prayer ministry. Many people write or call, asking for prayer for their health and their family relationships. A consistent prayer request over the weeks and months is for their adult children to stop smoking and drinking, to attend church services regularly, to come back to a walk with God. “Pray that my son will come back to church.”

A pastor-friend preached a sermon about this issue last year, in a church full of retirees. From my pew, I waited for a gasp of dismay when he advised that they should stop praying for the child to return to church, and just love and accept the child in every way, to praise and not criticize, to not express disapproval of smoking or drinking or disregard of tradition and standards – but just to relax the relationship, enjoy the moments together, appreciate, communicate, and above all, love-love-love. To my amazement, no one stiffened or resisted, no one walked out in disgust. They “amen-ed” the sermon and shed tears.

The mostly-elderly and conservative congregation agreed that they should have the attitude of the Prodigal Father, who ran out to meet the wayward son not with a lecture and probation, but with an embrace, a kiss, and most importantly, the gift of full restoration to intimate relationship. (That was a shockingly vulnerable display of love for the undeserving, don’t you think?) It's not about attending a church service — it's about the relationship with each other, and with Abba Father that's important.

The apostle Paul was quite the judgmental prosecutor in his younger days, but listen to his warmth, acceptance, enthusiasm, and advice to attract with honey, not vinegar: “Your task is to single-mindedly serve Christ. Do that and you'll kill two birds with one stone: pleasing the God above you and proving your worth to the people around you. So let's agree to use all our energy in getting along with each other. Help others with encouraging words; don't drag them down by finding fault. You're certainly not going to permit an argument over what is served or not served at supper to wreck God's work among you, are you? … So be sensitive and courteous to the others ... Don't eat or say or do things that might interfere with the free exchange of love.” Romans 14:18-20 MSG

About 15 months ago, a musician in my church ensemble died suddenly. We had played together at least twice a month for about five years. But I didn’t know him at all. We didn’t associate outside of rehearsal and the church service. It’s hard to mourn someone I didn’t know well, but I did learn that I should affirm and compliment and make an effort to be less insular and more friendly in the living years. And do you know, the “effort” seems less like work all the time! It’s fun to lift the day for a tired woman you’ll never see again by telling her that her hairstyle is lovely, or tell a young father what a cute boy he’s carrying through Home Depot. I remember how charged up I was when a little girl shouted to me across the Target parking lot: “I like your red dress! And your shoes!”

Maybe this is the way to change the world: one smile or happy heartbeat at a time. One lift of the eyebrow, one consoling touch on the elbow, one “Well done!”, one verbal kiss on the cheek, one compliment, one quick phone call or e-mail, one joke at the water cooler, one decision to swallow the critical word and instead forgive, one trial balloon of trust, one prayer to lift up your prodigal child, however “old” he or she may be.

Each tiny grain of love will bond with every other, and take on the form of the Body of Christ, all fitted and joined together under the Savior. “All of you together are Christ’s body, and each of you is a part of it.” 1 Corinthians 12:27 NLT.

“If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it, but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing. Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance." 1 Corinthians 13:1-7 NLT.

Love, even one molecule at a time, will make a difference. It will change the world.