Christmas is not for remembering, thinking, pondering, trying to make sure you are really celebrating it properly, or for wondering whether you truly have faith.
Merry Christmas, Christ has spoken, and his verdict stands.
The anticipation of Advent is supposed to build us up, not make us exhausted.

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She wasn’t so much giving up on her husband as giving up on herself. She was giving up trying to be the person who changes another person. It was going to take more than her to reform the man she loved.
The God who calls us to love our neighbor as ourselves will seem hopelessly out of touch with your insulated life of self-sufficiency.
Their love story was a long time in coming. He was 82 and she 74. And this was the first, and the last, marriage for both.
Life is too short to dream big dreams. They tend to devour everything that gets in their way, including family.
But one key theme that kept surfacing again and again was love: Jesus loved people, the Church showed me genuine love, and above all, God’s love in Christianity is unconditional.
A single, fifteen minute sermon that proclaims Christ and him crucified for you is more important than hundreds of hours of lectures by experts on revitalizing your ministry.
The table is full-laden; feast ye all sumptuously. The calf is fatted; let no one go hungry away.
Yes, how good it is for you to have enemies, for without them, when would you ever have the opportunity to fulfill, joyfully and willingly, the law of Christian love?
God’s Son is infinitely more than our fragile egos have flattened him out to be.
The preacher does not merely send out the raven. From the pulpit flies forth the dove of the Gospel.
Hers is not a beauty of breathtaking cathedrals, stained glass, or towering arches, but of a body.
Old Testament narratives foreshadowed the gifts that our Father gives us in baptism.