So, I asked again what Amanda wants for Christmas, and she responds:
We’ve been married for almost 22 years, you should know what I want.
Danger, Will Robinson.
I can’t figure out what she is thinking day-to-day, and somehow I am now supposed to remember what she thought (or might have said) sometime this past year. It would have sounded something like this I’m sure: “Oh, that looks nice”.
She asks for more dogs and cats daily, but I have pointed out at every turn that either I or one of her myriad of animals will need to die first before that will happen.
I sought the advice of Amazon, and it wasn’t helpful at all. While I might not know what she DOES want, at least I know what she DOESN’T want when I see it.
I only have 119, 928,851 options to pick from.
Send good vibes, I don’t think Christmas is going to go well for me this year.
Sitting in church tonight, I was thinking that the advent means so much more than I’ve ever thought of before. Our King and Creator came in such a strange way, to be born as a servant, to die, not a hero’s death as most Kings of renown, but to die a death most often of slaves, only then to triumph and be triumphant in His death… But, His advent was for my children, and my children’s children… He opened the door of salvation for them – and as a parent, I could never have asked or expected for anything more amazing than that. To know that the light of the world came in to overcome the darkness, to infiltrate and win back the hearts of his rebellious creation and in so doing, He gave me hope in that whatever life brings, there is hope for my children that goes beyond the hardships of this life alone. Regardless of the time of year Christ was really born: Happy Birthday Jesus, and thank you for such a wonderful gift – the gift of life for my children.
There is nothing that brings out my nature as a fallen human more than being dragged out shopping around Christmas time. If you want to cure a humanist – send them Christmas shopping with me. It becomes very obvious very quickly that I’m not “inherently good”.
And that’s the most ironic part of Christmas, I think. The weeks leading up to the celebration of the birth of our Lord, seems to make the most obvious, exactly why I need a savior.
I think I just heard an amen coming from at least one other person in the crowd… it must have been another Logiodice.