This has been a good Christmas season.  I think I’m taking a liking to it.  I’ve been a Grinch, a Scrooge, and a Humbug most of my adult life.  That started happening after I quit getting so many presents because these little despicable things called “grandchildren” entered the family and stole my thunder and my “baby of the family” status.  But I’m not one bit bitter about it.

We have a white Christmas this year.  Before you have quintessential visions, stop right there.  It’s not a bit pretty.  There isn’t anything pretty about snow blowing 50 mph. 

We had a beautiful communion service last night at church and that is the beautiful part of it all.  Amid all the wrapping paper on the floor, the turkey carcassess, the pine needles stuck in sock feet, pause for a moment (or more) and ponder the miracle and beauty of Christmas.  With all the complicated things in life, this is truly the most simple.

A virgin.
A stable.
A baby boy.
A hope for a lost world.
Emmanuel.

Merry Christmas.

Love,
Angel