Christ

All posts tagged Christ

Elf on the Shelf

Published December 9, 2014 by Ashley Townsend

Yes, Elf on the Shelf is a toy designed for children, but let’s be honest–adults spend way more time with this magical doll than the kids they’re setting it up for, and I also think they get a strange kick out of arranging it in hilariously ridiculous poses and situations. Actually, I don’t think, I know, because Elizabeth, Katie, and I went to town setting up random scenarios for our Lady Elf on the Shelf.

If you’re unfamiliar with Elf on the Shelf, first of all, please call 911 to get yourself out from under that rock you’ve been hiding beneath. But if you really don’t know, it’s a supposedly magical red doll that comes with a book that parents are supposed to read to their kids that talks about how the elf comes alive at night. And then parents will spend hours hiding the creature in random places and setting it up so that it looks as though it has a secret life at night. Kids get a kick out of it, and adults have a ton of fun staging it. You can educate yourself on the process by checking it out on Pinterest; there are some seriously creative pictures out there (and definitely some that are not kid-appropriate, but oh-so hilarious).

Liz got a Lady Elf for herself, and the three of us decided to go to town the other night setting Eleanor (that’s right, she has a name) up for her photo shoot. We had a ton of fun and plan to do 25 different shots for the month of December. Probably even more than that! Anyway, since we’re starting this later on in the month, we’re throwing a couple shots at you all together today. Hope you enjoy the adorableness that is Elf on the Shelf, and stay tuned all this month for more pics, Christmas recipes, and all sorts of shenanigans. 

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Elf on the Shelf watching “Elf.” Yes, she has a habit of only watching Christmas films Jan-Dec.

What else would a magical creature watch? These elves have to stick together!

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Hangin’ with the ladies and enjoying an elf-sized Christmas blend from Starbucks.

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She was so jazzed about her coffee that she started climbing on things, like inside the guitar…

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And inside my shoe. -_-

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Aaaaaaand up the tree. Her skirt caught on fire twice from the lights (she went up like a Roman candle). 

Needless to say, the fire department was not happy.

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Eleanor was so excited to be alive that she even came onto Flynn Rider…. Who was inside plastic.

And who is, consequently, not real. Don’t tell her, though. 

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But by the end of the night, she always returns to our favorite bookshelf,

with a bubble pipe and a snow globe to keep her company.  Hey, she is an Elf on the Shelf, after all. 

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Daughter of the King

Published June 15, 2012 by Ashley Townsend

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old has gone, the new is here!” 2 Corinthians 5:17 

Recently, my sisters and I conducted an accidental psych experiment on how people perceive things that are different. All it took was a quick trip to a fast food joint and a moment of courage to inadvertently compile our results. The four of us had spent the morning at Barnes and Nobles discovering new book titles and authors, quietly giggling over some of the more ridiculous plots involving vampires protecting the world from savage fluffy ducklings (a bit of an exaggeration, but we’ve all seen books like this!), and containing our shrieks of delight as we rejoiced over the discovery of a favorite book in the clearance section, of which we all proceeded to purchase a copy. We were on an excitement high as we marched from the bookstore, our faces toward the sky, a thick, identical hardback tucked safely under the arm of each girl.

To keep the good times rolling, we stopped at Burger King for lunch. Perhaps we did it unconsciously to relive our youth of so very long ago, or maybe it was the scent of chicken strips, grease, and ketchup packets that pulled us to our munching destination. Whatever the reason, sitting in the drive through put me in one of my silly moods, and when I saw those paper birthday crowns sitting just behind that glass window, I knew we had to have them. My oldest sister DeAnna, being very well acquainted with my ever-changing eccentricities in the heat of the moment, hesitated only a second before asking the woman in the window if we could have four of the kiddy crowns. Smiling, the woman handed us our crowns, which we wore on the drive home.

It didn’t take long to catch the disapproving stares and glances of amusement from the others drivers and passerby. It was obvious to us that people were taking note of the paper crowns on our heads and viewed us differently because of them; we appeared unusual and didn’t fit in perfectly, and people immediately took note of this fact. It didn’t really bother any of us; actually, we were all grinning like idiots because we were so happy and uncaring what the world thought of us. My sister Elizabeth was actually the one to point out the similarity between this event and being a Christian. I know it seems like an odd connection, but being a child of the King of kings means that each of us is a prince or princess—hence the crowns. We weren’t ashamed to wear them, either, completely unfazed by the questioning gazes we received. It took courage for DeAnna to ask for those crowns, even though it was such a simple thing to do: ask and it shall be given unto you. We wore those silly paper crowns with our heads held high, and it made me think that we should be as comfortable proclaiming our heavenly crowns as we are ridiculous paper headdresses that are made for children. That’s not to say we should boast about our crowns with a sense of pride, because we are entirely underserving of them. But rather we should wear that symbol with awe and wonder and declare it with love when we remember that God actually thought we were worth sacrificing his Son. It had nothing to do with anything we had ever done to deserve such a gift, and yet we were each given a crown with a smile. All we had to do was gather the courage to ask.   

“Every man’s life is a fairytale written by God’s hand.” –Hans Christian Andersen

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