My comment? God bless us...but especially God bless the flu. (Because I'm not too good to know where my bread is buttered.)
Despite Favorite's devastating loss, he still managed to have a great Christmas. I did, too. Our families are really generous, and generosity is a lifestyle.
Sunday morning, our pastor didn't preach a message about a baby laid in a manger. He didn't talk about a pregnant virgin and her uncomfortable trip to Bethlehem. Instead, he lovingly read from a passage in Matthew 11:
When John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”Who are you? John asked. I Am, Jesus replied.
Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”
At Christmas or St. Patrick's Day, He is. On the fourth of July or Halloween, He is. He is. He binds up the broken hearted. He sets the captive free. He heals the blind. And there's something in the present tense of "He Is" that breaks my heart wide open.
God with us.
Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.