Right now the Internet is full of predictions, invitations to new year’s resolutions, and promises about what 2017 could be with the right [insert latest product/diet/happy thought here].
If I, a woman, were to write the gospel of the entry of God into the world as one of us, I’m pretty sure I would not start with his human genealogy, as Matthew does.
Advent is a season of anticipation. Anticipation for a Savior to bring light into a dark world.
One December evening many years ago, I attended a small traveling circus, where I witnessed something extraordinary.
This is the question I’ve been asking over and over again for the past year or so.
Oh, elections. They do bring out our rhetorical best, don’t they? Surely you’ve heard (or maybe thought) this recently: “Well, if Candidate X wins this election, I’m moving to Canada!”
Hopefully not too many of you were fooled by this April Fool’s Day post. We’re leaving it up for your enjoyment, because we’re helpful like that. But try not to cry too much over the fact that Prayola markers do not actually exist . . .
I used to know someone who hated the song “Amazing Grace.” The first few verses were fine enough, he said, but then he would get to the last stanza—the one about eternal life—and freeze.
Today, after several weeks of unusually warm weather for March in Madison, it snowed and sleeted. A few of us might have cried with frustration.
It’s here, and unless you plan on spending the next nine months hiding under a rock (which might seem like a tempting option at times), there is no escaping it.
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