![]() As I sit at my desk, I hear the wind blowing and see the bare branches of trees shaking as the wind directs its force upon them. There is a fresh layer of snow on the ground with patches of ice shimmering on the pavement, making me aware that caution is needed when navigating a path to the car later today. The sun is shining bright even though the wind chill is below zero. I am deeply aware that we are in the heart of winter, with more cold, more snow, more long dark evenings to come. The winter blahs have arrived!
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![]() As 2021 sputters it’s way to a disappointing end in most categories, I think it’s safe to say that we all hope 2022 turns in some new directions. I’m hoping for some sort of pandemic progress (I’m past wishing for a resolution). I’m hoping that people somehow stop being divisive, silly, and just plain mean. These are beyond my control, of course. There are traditions to observe, however. “Good-luck foods” like pork, black-eyed peas with greens, cornbread, grapes, and pickled herring, should then be on the table New Year’s Eve. Good luck is sure to follow! ![]() For me, one of the most moving songs about the Nativity of Our Lord was popularized in 1955 when Mahalia Jackson recorded a song by Robert MacGimsey called Sweet Little Jesus Boy. Sweet little Jesus Boy -- They made you be born in a manger. Sweet little Holy Child -- Didn’t know who You was. Didn’t know You’d come to save us, Lord; To take our sins away. Our eyes was blind, we couldn’t see, We didn’t know who you was. ![]() Presence has taken on a new dimension for me this Advent. As we approach Christmas Eve worship, I have memories of last Christmas. At the church, we were filming videos of our worship services ahead of time so that they would be available to the congregation to worship at home on Christmas Eve. We had a presence with each other during worship, although it was virtual. I am grateful that worship could be made available in this way, and I am grateful that we can continue to stream live worship. However, when I think about being totally present to each other when the faith community gathers for worship, there is the stark reality that something is missing when we worship virtually. ![]() The church became very real to me when I was about nine years old. My mom had cancer and was in and out of the hospital, often for long periods, for the better part of a couple of years. During that time, my dad had three young sons to take care of (I was the oldest) while he worked a demanding job. The church became real in the faces of people who picked us up on weekends so my dad could be with mom. The church became real in meals dropped off at the house. The church became real in the way we were all embraced and supported by people who cared for us. The body of Christ was alive and moving in our lives. The beloved community was active and sharing God’s love with us. ![]() Discontent is part of the fabric of our lives. A life centered on the acquisition of “things” is driven by discontent because appealing to our desires is more fun than thinking of our basic needs. Diamonds capture the imagination in a way that chicken soup does not. Having a roof over our heads is not nearly so inspiring as acquiring the home that inhabits our dreams. This is especially true in this most hallowed season in the marketplace. ![]() It has been a little over a year since my Aunt Dorothy died. She was the last relative of my parent’s generation. Dorothy and her husband never had any children so their nieces and nephews were very special to them. Dorothy lived to be 104 years old. For some, living that long would be challenging. For Dorothy it was in some respects, as I remember her saying that she really had to work hard on staying focused on the “here and now;" it was so much easier to drift into the past. Yet, even with this struggle she gave thanks for God for each day and for the people in the care center who provided her care and security. She was like that. I would describe her as a thankful person. What a wonderful legacy to leave, that of being thankful. Her dying words to her nieces and nephews who gathered at her bedside were, “Love everyone, and be thankful.” ![]() The mayor has lit the city Christmas tree. Black Friday and Christmas sales are beginning. All of this before some folks have gotten the Jack-O-Lanterns off the stoop and before I know what we’re cooking for Thanksgiving. It is forty-five days until Christmas Day, and I do understand the necessity of planning – we are already busy with preparing for Christmas Eve and beyond. Yet I can’t help wondering what we will miss as we zoom through the next seven weeks straining ahead to a day not yet here. ![]() The Glasgow Climate Change Conference, also known as COP26, is off and running. There are speakers who are experts in climate change science with data on how we are doing as a world community in controlling climate change. National leaders are present as the goals and action plan continue to be addressed and decisions made. Youth of the world remind us of the urgency of halting climate change and even reversing it in situations where it is not too late |
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