Every morning I, like you, arise and start the day. We conduct our daily routines and start the trek to work or set about our chores around the house as I do because I’m retired and my avocation is writing on matters political both foreign and domestic. Because of this I have a diverse reading list allowing for interesting observations about how nations and people viewed the actions occurring in their lives. Their actions make them who they are and how they’re seen in history.
Is it me or is Christmas filled with a little more stress than joy? A little more angst than good cheer? Hustle and bustle has been replaced with “Black Friday” and who can grab what gift first to get the best deal.
I don’t understand the so-called immorality of fighting a war with the same intensity and conviction as those who’d wage war against us.
So many of us love and remember the Christmas story, found in the Gospel accounts of both Matthew and Luke. But this year, as I read these accounts again, one verse really caught my attention.
I went dark years ago. Going dark means a couple of different things. Some denote a lack of presence; others denote a sense of depression.