Out for a round of shopping recently, I about had a temper tantrum. “Am I seriously staring at sixteen tables of Christmas décor, one stacked with Elf diapers and another with three types of holiday breakfast cereal?!” It’s tough to find God in Christmas. Makes me think of an elaborate birthday party where the crowds are many, and the activities consuming enough that it’s the norm to make it through the night, and even home, lying awake in bed, when it dawns on you—“I forgot to see the birthday-boy! Saw him from afar a couple times, I think, but wish we’d gotten some face time." In other words, fun party, fuzzy centerpiece. Great play, but central character could’ve been more central. You get my point. And if you’ve grown-up anywhere around America in the month of December, I’m supposing you can relate.
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