The turkey leftovers should be gone by now, and most of us are thinking about Christmas.
Well, some of us thought about Christmas before Halloween or Thanksgiving even arrived, but that’s beside the point.
Black Friday — what a day of madness that has become. At 6 p.m. on Thanksgiving, we drove past Wal-Mart in Malone, and the parking lot was 90 percent full of cars, and the store didn’t open until 8 p.m. I did the Black Friday deals once several years ago and swore never again. I don’t need anything that badly.
So onward we go to Christmas. Planning, cleaning, shopping, mailing, cooking, eating, spending time with family and friends is all part of the holiday. For me, it’s all about love, love of a forgiving Holy God toward sinful man, by way of an innocent babe in a manger more than 2,000 years ago.
I know there are other holidays observed by people who are not of the Christian faith, but for me and my house, my family, on Dec. 25 each year, we observe that babe who opened the door to eternal life. I applaud anybody who doesn’t want to join in, but I have my reasons for believing, along with millions of other people in the past and present.
When I was a teen, living in Westville, we attended the United Methodist Church in Trout River. I sang in the choir; it was small — made up of a handful of teens. I loved singing the traditional Christmas carols. They aren’t just words set to music. Many come from deep personal experiences, some painful, the result of the author reaching for peace from above.
“What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary’s lap is sleeping? Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, while shepherds watch are keeping?”