I will not start packing up the decorations today.
In keeping with a resounding theme, Advent, this year, has truly served as a time to reflect on love
Advent came a little later than expected this year.
“Why do you always do the work in the kitchen at church? Why not Dad?”
Back in the early ‘80’s, when I was still living in Colorado, on Good Friday mornings a friend and I would take the 4 to 5 a.m. Night Watch shift at church, then we’d drive out to Warren Lake.
Not one person in my life would accuse me of being chronically organized.
Safe? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.
John, for me, is the apostle of light, the apostle who shines the light on the true nature of our God and our Lord and Savior.
As if on cue, every second Sunday of Advent my husband and I get into an argument about the correct type of lights to hang in order to welcome baby Jesus, the incarnate God, into the world.
I recently had a literal “come to Jesus” moment while saying goodbye to a fellow parishioner leaving our Sunday service.