I’m Going to Let You Down
Because there are so many little issues involved that tunnel-vision just ignores, and very few minds are changed, and nobody looks good in the end.
Because there are so many little issues involved that tunnel-vision just ignores, and very few minds are changed, and nobody looks good in the end.
That Perry Como song comes on the radio, and I’m a wreck because there really is no place like home, whether it’s for the holidays or any time of year.
Why shop for Christmas presents when I can scrounge through the basement for spray paint and paper clips at 3 am on Christmas morning to fashion handmade Precious Moments iHomes?!!
The more I think about it, the more a purge seems like acceptable Advent behavior. Wasn’t God’s son plunked into a feeding trough because there wasn’t room in the right place?
Around this time every year, I fill out a “year in review” as a way of remembering significant things in the previous year. One category is the public figure who most captured my imagination.
I’ll play favorite vs. least favorite, a completely subjective game and thus the dolt cousin of favorite vs. best. Today’s topic: Christmas carols.
“You’ll have to excuse Calah. All these people are giving her information overload right now. Please join her in the ladies’ room for a deep conversation about this week’s scripture reading.”
Somewhere around 5:00 a.m. on Saturday, mom will go into Noah’s Ark mode, creating piles two at a time and designating where they will go in the car.
It’s almost our second Christmas as a married couple. Our tree is full of bare, ornament-less spots. We have different holiday movie requests, opposing music preferences, and conflicting decorating techniques.
We come to church expecting to be fed—physically with coffee and cookies, spiritually with a rousing sermon. We come expecting to be entertained by talented musicians and a skillful preacher.