I don’t know about you — but I can’t remember a Christmas that seemed as full of stress as the one coming in less than a week. This morning there were more ornaments on the floor around my tree. Despite having cut the tree trunk at the big box store where I bought it, it has steadfastly refused to drink water.   

Decades ago, when I sent a gazillion Christmas cards, I would write them in September. I left the envelopes unsealed because sometimes a card needed to be changed due to some  event:

• birth or death 
• sickness or healing
• promotion or retirement
• children or grandchildren

Today, December 21st, I am still answering the cards that friends and family sent me. I hope they have a sense of humor, as it seems highly likely my card will arrive after the fact. Thinking of Charlie Brown’s Christmas seems appropriate somehow. But all the things worrying my frazzled brain need to calm down.  

Advent comes to a close in less than a week. Saturday is Christmas. Saturday, we celebrate. 

This from the King James Version of the Gospel of  Luke, 2:8-14:

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.