I've been looking for that word for years. And it finally hit me. I love memoirs. I love them. I love to catch glimpses into the experiences of others. I love a well-told story. I love life in its simplicity, and I especially love to turn something mundane into the extraordinary.
And I guess that's what memoirs do. They take something so simple, so commonplace, and transform it into a universally understandable work of art. They connect us. They help us look beyond social barriers and see that our hearts are shared. Though our hopes and dreams may be different, we all have something that we are striving to become.
Anyway, today is the day in which we celebrate Christmas in July. I plan on listening to Christmas music all day long, and reminiscing on the days when it was cold enough to wear pants, thick socks, shoes, three layers of long-sleeved shirts, gloves, and a coat--and still fight the urge to shiver in attempt to look normal while walking around Temple Square. While I'm at it, I'll probably drink some hot chocolate soon, before it gets unbearably hot. Then I'll eat some popsicles and pretend that they're snow. I will celebrate that the Christmas season has drawn yet another day nearer.
And, as silly as it is, there is no reason not to take the opportunity to remember what Christmas is all about. A Savior was born. He did all that was required of Him, He redeemed us. And He lives today and is ever reaching out to you, waiting for you to take His hand.
We are so, so blessed because of Him.
Merry Christmas in July!