It’s a good thing Alicia Emmerling and Michelle Miller like each other. They share a small office downstairs at Fellowship North. Also, they share a job. Together, Alicia and Michelle are co-directors of WeeROCK (Alicia being the newest part of that team). WeeROCK is FN’s area for our very youngest people (birth – 4 years). On Sunday mornings, the middle floor of the Rock building is full of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. More than 30 volunteers staff the classrooms each week, caring for the kids and leading them in crafts and activities planned especially for their ages. Alicia, along with Michelle, leads and coordinates it all.

Alicia and her husband, Sam, have been at FN since 2001, and she says that one of the reasons she wanted to take this job was the impact that WeeROCK had on her own family. There are 4 Emmerling kids: Thomas (21), Evan (13), Chloe (9), and Samantha (4). When the Emmerlings first came to FN, Evan was only 2, meaning he went to WeeROCK. A little later, Thomas began to volunteer there. Now their youngest will graduate out of WeeROCK this spring. “It’s been such a tremendous ministry to all of our kids,” says Alicia.

Previously, Alicia has worked as a nurse, and then has spent the last few years at home with her kids. Now that she’s on staff here, she says she’s really excited about new plans in store for WeeROCK, and the chance to get to know younger families at FN. Oh, and “I’m really glad to be part of the SUPER team!” she adds (and yes, the Student Ministries team really does refer to themselves that way). We’re excited to have her here!

Kids Across America Camp Scholarships:  $5,250 – which will send 30+ kids to camp

Love & Hope Orphanage in Orissa, India:  $16,695  (see letter below)

Castle Bluff Lodge Back Porch: $16,050

If you are a math-type person, you might have noticed that there is still almost $17,000 left – extra! The missions committee will decide where to give that money the next time they meet. How wonderful is that? Thank you for giving more this past Christmas season to these missions!

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Also, we recently received a couple of letters from people involved with the Love & Hope Orphanage; we thought you would enjoy reading them too. The first is from a woman helping to organize the building efforts, and the second is from a man working directly with the construction.

Dear Fellowship North Friends,

Annie [Manis - she and her husband Walt are missionaries that FN supports] called me this morning to let me know about your generous offering for the children’s home in Orissa, India.  I am so thrilled of this news and above all of your generosity as a church to stand with us in this project to give to these kids a shelter to grow safe and with protection.  We have been exactly missing this amount of money and we are very very touched that God uses your church in Arkansas to bless and fulfill this need.

May the Lord make your church receive 100% blessings as they have given so generously to the poor and despised kids.  May He fulfill all your needs as church and individuals as you have fulfilled the needs of these kids.

I have communicated this news also to Suneli who is the first hand of this project in India, who is my good friend, a godly woman with a big heart for these kids and for God’s Kingdom in India.  She says me to say to your church, so many thanks for helping these kids.

The money will go for finishing the rest of the house work (6 bathrooms, sanitary work, windows, doors, protection wall, painting, shelves in each room and electricity connection and whatever other work needs to be done.)  Right now, Suneli’s husband is in Orissa looking after these duties that the house work is finished properly and on time.  He is very knowledgeable in construction work and has been a blessing to have him them since end of August 2011.

Many many thanks in the name of these kids and the Orissa team,
Alma Stoeckli

(the following email is from Suneli’s husband, Satyam, after receiving the news)

beloved in christ jesus,

i cried for joy. this is a great news. it takes out much pressure from
our building team. we were working day and night striving for quality
and to save every 10 rupees. but now we can afford to be a little
generous to the builder and his team and even to our team.

i still feel a great compassion and i pray regularly for the thousands
of kandamal children who are like lambs without a shepherd. May the
great shepherd have compassion for them too and send shepherds to take
care.

much love and regards. many heart felt thanks for Alma Chris and their
compassionate team!! May God fulfill all the pending needs of the
generous donors!

satyam

It’s a class for anyone who wants to learn more about race issues inside and outside of the church.

The provided reading and listening material alone is worth the effort to participate in the class, but nothing can take the place of the unrehearsed, impromptu but guided discussions you will have face to face with someone who is different from you.

To say that hearing a brother or sister alongside whom I now worship tell a story from his or her own experience is eye-opening is to grossly understate the experience.  It is heart opening.  It is nothing short of life changing.  It is the fuel we need in our souls to stay hard on the path of seeing the church become a reconciled body of Christ.

Each Talk It Out class is as different as the people who attend it.  The memories you take from a simple gathering together with others for a meager four sessions are greatly varied but consistently meaningful.

For me, the moment I remember most vividly was learning that it is common practice today in some neighborhoods that if you are an African American trying to sell your home, you would be asked by a realtor to you hide all evidence that black people live in your house. 

Really?

Put away your family photos.  Take down art that might seem ethnic.

Really?

For some reason, it was this experience that stayed with me even longer than stories of growing up in segregated schools.  I think the reason for this is that it happened just recently.  In my lifetime, in the day I (we) live in, right now, people don’t want to buy a house because the race of the owner is different from their own.  Because this story happened right across from me and I could not alleviate its pain or take it away, I was ultimately most moved by it.  Even now as I remember her telling it, I feel the sting of how much I hated its truth.  I cringe.  It was something I wanted to look away from.

I did not know it at the time, but the part of Talk It Out that I needed was a tangible understanding that I don’t have to live with these kinds of common insults because I am white.  I will not ever have to explain to my children that I’m taking their pictures down because someone won’t want to buy our house if they see them.

There is a name for this collection of concerns that I don’t carry with me every day of my life.  This not having to think about race.  It is called white privilege.  I didn’t earn it and I can’t give it back, but it is as real as the chair I am sitting in.

Because I have it, I can look away.  I can turn my head. I can choose to not listen to the stories.  I can try to pretend that there is no such thing as racism in America.

But this mission, this most worthy journey of all people being reconciled in Christ Jesus, calls me to keep looking.  To keep listening.  To stop pretending.

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Today’s post is by Alison Chino – she blogs here and twitters here. Married to Taido and mom to Cole, Mary Polly, Ben, and Simon, she loves cooking, reading, yoga, and travelling.

Toward the end, Craig asked everyone who hasn’t been through Talk It Out (small group on racial unity) to consider going through the next one. It will meet at 6 pm on 4 Wednesdays: Jan. 25, Feb. 1, 8, and 22, and will be led by Harold and Craig together. I went through Talk It Out a couple of years ago and wrote about it in June of 2010:

I needed to hear someone say that my thought that things are equal now between races, that the injustices are all in the past, is like sitting down to play a game of Monopoly with a black friend. This particular Monopoly game has been played for generations now; our fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers played together too. Only some of those previous white players took all the hotels and controlled the bank and maybe punched their opponents in the face. And now I come to the game, with the wealth of accumulated resources behind me, and my opponent comes from a very different place – and even with the best of intentions, the game is not equal.

I’d love for you to see the rest of the story here. Even more, I hope you’ll sign up for Talk It Out.

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Sarabeth Jones is on staff as a part of the arts team at Fellowship North, where she gets to work in many different creative areas. She is married to Bryan and has 3 kids: Elizabeth (14), Jonathan (13), and Will (10). She blogs at the dramatic, and thinks she is pretty darn funny on the Twitters.

Tamar…twice widowed, tricks her father-in-law into sleeping with her so she can conceive, bear a child and cement her place in Judah’s line.

Rahab…a prostitute who hides Israelite spies and helps them capture her city.

Bathsheba, or the one ‘who had been Uriah’s wife’…the woman with whom King David committed adultery.

And then there’s Ruth. Naomi’s widowed daughter-in-law, a foreigner who pledges her loyalty to Naomi, who gains the respect and affection of a noble man honestly…and basically lives happily ever after.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t identify more closely with the first three than the last. And as I tentatively draw near to the manger scene, trembling hands bearing paltry gifts, I remember their stories. That these women with checkered pasts are the ancestors of the Messiah.  That God saw fit to include them in the lineage of His Son. This truth touches a place deep in my heart.

I hesitate to worship because I fear I’m a disappointment, a failure. Until tonight, I’ve been worried that my house wasn’t clean enough or my molasses cookies would fall flat. But now, with four days until we wake, read Luke 2 and offer our thanks for this indescribable gift, the fear goes far deeper.

The closer you get to the manger, the more honest you find you’ve become.

So I remember their stories. And I remember that along with those stinky shepherds, a lowly manger and heaven knows how many livestock, these women were invited in to this Story. They were each allowed to play a part in redemption’s entrance to the world. They were given the honor of direct kinship with Emmanuel, the Prince of Peace. How can I read these names and think that I am any less lovable, any less redeemable? Yet I do just that. I mean, clearly God didn’t know when He was grafting scandalous women into Jesus’ lineage that someone like me would come along and try to cash in on that deal.

Except He did. And that knowledge did not for one second stay His steady hand of grace.

You know, we can give more without exposing the depths of our souls. We can spend less without devoting a second thought to God’s presence. We can even love all by temporarily shoring up our insecurities with some gratitude and a stiff upper lip. But worshipping fully? It’s an act of intimacy. It requires that we commune with God as He is: Father, Maker, All-Knower, Savior, Master, Lavish Love-Giver. And we must commune with Him as we are: everlastingly loved, cherished, eternally redeemed, forgiven, restored. So often I come to Him ashamed, guilty, accused and frightened. How this must break His heart. How it wearies my soul.

I read the names again, and I realize: it’s good to remember their stories. It’s good to remember my story. But we run amuck when we forget that redemption is just a little bit further down the page, that the Story doesn’t end where we strayed. We can’t worship fully when we’re stuck in those gritty places because we’re not remembering who we are in Him. We can believe that God parted the Red Sea, that a virgin gave birth to the Messiah, that Jesus healed the sick and rose from the grave…but we wrestle so with the Truth that we are loved by the God who accomplished all of those things.

So I’d like to stop wrestling. To finally cease my striving and humbly accept my place as beloved. Something tells me that if we can just find a way to do that, we’ll find ourselves offering up to Him the worship of hearts full to bursting with gratitude and joy, with love and peace.

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When my daughters were 5 and 6 years old a relative showed them a red corvette and this person made a big deal about how awesome that car was.  And for a couple of years after that every time they saw a red car they would yell with glee – “CORVETTE!!”

And they would just go crazy over that red Ford Festiva!

What if I told you that we all are amazing worshippers, that’s right ALL.  “All christians?” you might ask.  Nope, ALL HUMANS, both regenerated and the unregenerate.  We were all created by God to be worshippers, created by God to bring glory to God. Our problem isn’t that we don’t know how to worship, our problem is that we worship the wrong god.  We are created to be worshippers but we are naturally bent to put little gods on our thrones and worship them.  As stated before we evaluate ourselves mostly at corporate gatherings, but the real litmus test is to do an inventory of your minutes, hours and days to see where you spend your time and why you spend your time that way. Take an account of what you day dream about, these all point to who/what is on the throne of your heart.

Paul is in Athens in Acts 17 and sees all the gods the Greeks have and he says “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. 23 For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, ‘To the unknown god.’…..”   Paul doesn’t say, “You guys have no idea how to worship….let me show you HOW to worship”.   Rather he states that they are very religious. Then he goes on to say that as he observed their objects of worship he noticed that they are worshipping little gods and that the one they call the “unknown god” is actually the only true living God, the only one worthy of their worship. Paul says and I paraphrase, “You Greeks are awesome worshippers, however you need to change your object of worship!”

There is more that makes a Corvette a Corvette than just red paint – and of course if you paint a Ford Festiva red and put a spoiler on it that doesn’t even suggest that it is a Corvette.

You have no doubt seen footage of early Elvis concerts, with the shrill sound of girls screaming and falling over one another and passing out and crying. (Or The Beatles, Michael Jackson, Justin Beiber etc.) As you reflect on those ones in the crowd at such concerts one thing they all have in common is truly they are amazing worshippers!  If we followed  a Justin Beiber fan in the weeks prior to and after the concert I bet we would find things such as these. They constantly talk about Justin, they tend to bring any conversation around to Justin, they know all of his songs, they watch all his videos, they day dream about meeting him face to face, they can’t wait until he comes back to their region and they get to see him again…etc.  You see they are amazing worshippers, the problem is they have a little mortal god.

How then, beloved, should we live?

I would like to challenge you as well as myself to settle the debate over whether you are an amazing worshipper or not and do a serious inventory or your minutes, hours, days, day dreams, and where you spend your money. Then tear down the idols in your hearts that exalt themselves against God. Denounce areas of sin as you ask Jesus for His forgiveness and throw out the things that are permissible but not profitable to you running hard after Jesus.

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Today’s post is written by Shane Warbington, who is one of the worship leaders at FN. He’s married to Wendy and they have three children: Mykaela (21), Lauren (20), and Cade (7). Shane spends his days as a self-employed remodeler/handyman (“Technically, I work for my wife”) and sometimes shares hilarious childhood stories on his blog.

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This Christmas season at FN, we’ve decided to join into the Advent Conspiracy. As a part of celebrating together, we’ve asked several people to write about each week’s topic here on our blog. And we’d like for you to join in too: share your reactions, plans, or experiences in the comments. Or, if you post on your own blog, leave a link in the comments. Post pictures to our Facebook wall. Tweet us @fellowshipnorth. Let’s use our online space as a community – one that will conspire together this Christmas season!

My life is messy. I’d bet real money that yours is, too, and that admitting this to each other is, at once, the most difficult and most freeing thing any two people can do. So here, I’ll go first: I’m a mess. My schedule is insane, I never seem to be able to get everything on my list knocked out, and even though I’ve gotten pretty good at making it seem like it’s all under control, if you were to peek through my front door right now, you’d see first-hand evidence…of the mess.

I got the tree out a few weeks ago, along with all the decorations, and I spent a Sunday afternoon decking the halls. I strung the lights, I hung the ornaments. I put the red and green table runner on my dining room table along with my gold angels and glittery Noel sign. I arranged the garland and advent calendar on top of the piano and hung last year’s Hope…Peace…Joy sign from the hook beside the front door. Sounds pretty, right? It is. If you turn off all of the lamps and squint your eyes until everything looks real blurry. What I didn’t tell you was:  there are no less than 5 coloring books lying in various places on the living room floor, anywhere from six to ten magic markers and/or their lids lurking about and miscellaneous bits of yarn, ribbon and glitter randomly peppering my dining room rug. And how about the ten quilts and blankets that I haven’t found a good place for now that I’m using the hall closet to hide Olivia’s still unwrapped Christmas presents? Did I mention those? And the pile of six weeks’ worth of mail on my kitchen counter? Did I tell you about that?

My house spends the year in some sort of disarray, but for some reason, on December 1, I begin to shudder each time I walk in the door and see anything but glittery perfection. What is it about Christmas that makes us think we can’t begin the celebration unless the house is – and we are – spotless? And this refusal to celebrate, it isn’t just about holding up a party. No. We actually refuse to turn our hearts toward love, to extend forgiveness, to show mercy, to hand out grace…because we can’t get that wreath to hang up just so and our cookies are burned and there’s just not enough time to get it all done. I mean, really, who did this to us? Was it advertising? Movies? Currier & Ives?

Or have we done it to ourselves?

Oh, how needlessly we take it all on. These unrealistic expectations we live with all year round, they morph every December until we’re maniacally driven by this wild fear of never being enough. I loved what Sarabeth said on Sunday: when is it ever enough at Christmastime? So many years I’ve approached this season with a mysterious sense of dread, of feeling like I’ve failed before I’ve even begun, and I realized this year: I’m just picking up where I left off. I end each Christmas season with regrets: I didn’t make it to this party, didn’t manage to get my hands on that gift, didn’t remember to hang that ornament, didn’t, didn’t, didn’t…

Enough already! And I mean that literally. Here are the facts: I did not manage to perfect myself in 2011. Didn’t lose those last 10 pounds, didn’t tackle that home improvement project, didn’t teach my toddler to read, didn’t learn how to change the oil in my car, didn’t write a book (or even get started), and I didn’t overcome every defect in my character. I’ve spent the last 346 days much like I’ve spent the 11,000 before them: fully human. Flawed. And I think you probably did, too.

But I’ve also spent the last 346 days redeemed. Because on an especially holy night, a Savior was born to us. In the city of David. David, the man after God’s own heart, whose sin betrayed God’s own heart. In this David’s city, the Christ child appeared for the first time. And the angels made this glorious announcement to shepherds. Stinky shepherds in a field. I’m pretty sure those shepherds didn’t go home and shower before they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. Because there was something – Someone – more important at hand than the mistakes of the past, than lowly life positions and grungy clothes. The Savior was born. Redemption was nigh, and they had been invited to see it firsthand.

And I’m the miser counting up my love, my joy, and miserably putting it back in the safe until next year, when maybe I’ll have enough to spend.

I can’t help but return to the passage in I John – we love because He first loved us. So this year, I’m taking a chance. I’m admitting that conditions are as ideal as they’re ever going to be, and that what matters is not how clean my house is or how many batches of cookies I bake or how successful I’ve been this year at anything…that Jesus didn’t wait for humanity to get its act together before He came to save us, and my mess doesn’t scare Him one bit. My mess, your mess, our mess – it’s why we needed Emmanuel, why we needed a Love that could conquer the mess. A Love that conquers all.

So when I walk through my front door tonight, I’m going to breathe. I’m going to let the tree remind me of Love and I’ll happily let the clutter remind me of what it conquers: All.

And isn’t that the glorious truth that our hearts long to celebrate? Father, give our eyes the courage to see it fresh…

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As many times as I’ve bellowed those words in my lifetime, “let every heart prepare him room”, and yet I’ve never hovered on them, turning them into a picture of the rooms in my heart instead of letting them rest in the midst of the verse.

Catchy phrase that it is, I need to remember what is not to be prepared: not my checkbook, my schedule, my car, my house. Nope. Just my heart. So why is that the hardest thing to get ready?

Let every heart prepare Him room. Which means my heart is not exempt from “every”.

Prepare Him room.

Preparing for anything takes work: planning, moving stuff around, maybe even throwing old stuff out or changing up my schedule.  Sometimes it takes starting over or refreshing what’s already there. And then there are the times the preparations become uncomfortable, sweaty and gritty, confrontational and achy. There’s so much that seems like it doesn’t need to be moved or let go, giving false confidence that there’s plenty of room for whatever it is that is occupying the space.

And then what goes in that ‘room’, once the space is all cleared out and available? I answer, “love”, right? If a heart is truly going through the preparations, really cleaning out the junk and scrubbing the dark corners on hands and knees, my response surely can’t be to fill it with more junk. And certainly not more anger, frustration, unforgiveness, ________ or ________. (You fill in the blanks. You might have some of these yourself.)

Still, that answer, “love”, somehow seems vague, like it gets a free pass since I answered “correctly”. Because then I have to ask, what about my own heart preparing? How welcome would He be today? Or in April? Or during a particularly tense meeting at work? Or in any sort of marital issue, parenting concern, family stress? How welcome would He be, in seasons of my life that don’t lend themselves much to the preparations necessary to really, truly, deeply, joyfully love?

Does it mean I’m less crabby? Intentionally kinder to my family? Purposely nicer, less snarky with that one person at work who can get me torqued up before I’ve even fully logged in to my computer? Zero choice words during the morning (or holiday!) commute?

Certainly those suggestions are fine. But they suddenly seem like the easy way out, as if my “willingness” to ready my heartrooms only goes as far as the foyer. That if anyone were to walk in and look around, the surface cleaning might be “good enough”, but no way would I want anyone turning on the lights. Flipping the switches and peering into spots that still have dust or cobwebs. Or dust bunnies or dust mites. (BTW – yuck.)

But if I picture Jesus turning on that light to look around more, I see those other “loves” that can move through those heart hallways and rooms, if only the clutter is cleared.

The love that comes when I pray for folks I don’t particular like most days, but in the consistent praying, I come to love them with no earthly explanation. Somehow, the love works its way in because the room has been prepared.

Love that gets in when my sarcastic tongue isn’t even tempted to respond to a planned attack, aimed straight at me. There’s nothing I’ve done to disable that tongue. Except clear out some space and let my heart open up.

Love that provides its own light when I get to love people I don’t even know. Or when I find words that beg grace and forgiveness on behalf of someone who, in my worldly eyes, deserves neither. That cannot possibly draw from any of my own pitiful resources, but can only exist if I make room for love.

Prepare.

Oh, but how do those places in my heart stay clutter-free and prepared? How do I prevent the piles of worry, fear, selfishness, hopelessness, loneliness, _______ or _______ (go ahead, fill those in – you know you want to) from taking over again? Those piles are sneaky, you know? Before I even realize it, my heart looks like an episode of “Hoarders” and intervention is required.

The messy stuff only clears out in the readying, in seeking opportunities to fill up with love instead of mess. Perhaps with some of the organized activities at Fellowship North (STEP Ministries, feeding the homeless, serving at Pike View), or maybe even with other things God puts out there, giving the chance to love differently, quietly, humbly – in a hiding, personal place that only He wants to see. That place that says it’s ok if the recipient of love never knows it was me, but sees only that it was Him. The challenge is in really seeing those chances, then letting the love do its thing.

Maybe the greater challenge is in all year long, all life long. Prepare Him room. In freeing up that space to welcome Him, I’m throwing out the welcome mat for love too. After all, what is He but ultimate love?

Let every heart prepare Him room. Mine. Yours. Ours. Every.

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Lots of them actually.

Problem #1: I like things more than I should. I wish that I could say that I am immune from the all-powerful appeal of the latest shiny gadget, but I’m not. I even own one or two of those pretty glossy pieces of technology. But they aren’t enough.

They are never enough.

There are two ways to get enough: one is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less.

- G.K. Chesterton

Alison and I have been fairly committed to living within our means for some years now, which has thankfully kept us from going on too many unfettered shopping binges. And yet, even though the means to accumulate are lacking, the desire to do so isn’t.

I wish the problems list ended there. You and I both know it doesn’t. Problem #2: I have authority issues. Even though we have practiced a form of “spending less” for numerous Christmases, I sort of resent being told to do so. I mean it isn’t like God is going to like me any more or less based on whether or not I do, right?

Right?

And yet, somehow frugality has become one of the marks of a really serious Christian. Someone who is really committed to following Jesus would not spend more during the Christmas season. They would spend less, to give more.

“I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare In other words, if our expenditure on comforts, luxuries, amusements, etc., is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving away too little. If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditure excludes them.”

- C.S. Lewis

Which brings me to Problem #3: I like to play devil’s advocate. I almost always think I could argue the other side, and in this case I think I could marshal a pretty good case not for frugal giving, but for extravagant gift giving.

Was God frugal when he gave to us? Did God withhold any good thing from those he loved? Did he not give everything he had? Didn’t he lavish his good gifts on us? In our efforts to love like God loved, shouldn’t we withhold nothing as well?

Give like God. Give like crazy.

Sounds like a preaching series to me.

Before we print new sermon outlines, there are a couple of issues to work through.

First, God is infinite in resources. And even though we would like to be, we aren’t. If God holds nothing back, he still has more to give. If we spend all the money we have (and a bunch we don’t), the electricity gets turned off and the house gets foreclosed on. I certainly don’t need to add fiscal irresponsibility to my already burgeoning list of issues.

But the infinitely more important thing to come to terms with is the content of God’s giving. God did in fact hold nothing back. He gave and gave and gave. But what was the infinitely valuable gift that God gave us?

Himself

What do we want to give and (more honestly) get?

Stuff

And so we come back to the question all over again. What is it that we want to give this Christmas season? Something that will ultimately end up collecting dust on a shelf? Stuffed in a drawer? Returned to Wal-Mart? Thrown in the trash?

Or do we want to give something that is truly valuable? It is a little cheesy, a little hard to believe, but entirely true…

you are the most valuable gift you can give.

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Today’s post is by Taido Chino, who works with middle and high school students at FN. He is married to Alison, and they have 4 kids: Cole, Mary Polly, Ben and Simon (and currently, Vitara, an exchange student!) Taido is something of a theology nerd and mountain enthusiast whose favorite December pastime is cruising the Inflatahouse. Oh, and he twitters.

______________________________________________

This Christmas season at FN, we’ve decided to join into the Advent Conspiracy. As a part of celebrating together, we’ve asked several people to write about each week’s topic here on our blog. And we’d like for you to join in too: share your reactions, plans, or experiences in the comments. Or, if you post on your own blog, leave a link in the comments. Post pictures to our Facebook wall. Tweet us @fellowshipnorth. Let’s use our online space as a community – one that will conspire together this Christmas season!