But then Christmas, ah Christmas...wonderful on so many levels. When you've checked you're mailbox three times a day for four months, being home is off the charts! All of the food and hugs and warmth. I hope Colleen and I can provide something close to that when our kids come home.
Social justice. It's a loaded term that should pull some sort of response from each of us. Is that a not-so-subtle guilt trip I'm laying? I guess it is. There are hundreds of ways to care, but zero exceptions to the fact that we should.
Then there I was, sitting alone on the shaded back step of the youth hostel chalet, Bible in my lap, gazing across the mountain meadow and continuing my weeks-long search for a Bible verse that would give complete meaning to my life. Finally, in that distant, elevated place, it landed.
The car is packed to the roof and window to window. Your child is ready to leave, that is, to leave home for good. Oh, they'll be back in one way or another, but childhood is over. When the car backs out of the driveway and disappears into the traffic in just a moment, childhood will be over.
