Promises kept


Old friends dropped by tonight for pizza and beer. There’s something comforting about that, being with people you’ve known for eons. The conversational clues are spotted; the subte jokes, acknowledged; the deep values, affirmed.

It’s the sacramental nature of the Body of Christ played out in your kitchen on nights like tonight, and you know that the Advent Promise wasn’t a lie.



The big brother cried small silent tears of joy when he opened his gift from the little brother. I’m serious: He. Cried.

For the last few years, we have been helping our boys develop the ability to make each other gifts. It has turned our Xmas morning into an entirely different affair. There is really no yelling and screaming, no whining and crying. Sure, we have to help the Littles along at times, but there is genuinely an atmosphere of striving to love and care for the other person, of feeling appreciated and honored for our own selves.

It’s a pastor’s dream, to be frank.