I tried to write a cheeky little note today about the Christmas “blahs.” It sank like a stone so I put it in the trash.

It didn’t work because the essay began to write me; that happens occasionally.

I read what I had written and saw a strong note of self-pity instead of humor.

I haven’t liked Christmas for decades. Now global warming threatens us all.

The political scene is gruesome and the war in Ukraine devastates our idea of “peace on earth, goodwill to men.”

I pray to be easier in my judgement of myself and others. We are all tarred with the same brush.

We walk around with a good coating of public show. We want to look okay to others in the crowd. But there are no others, are there?

There is only the One and it resides inside us all.

The search for the Christ child is still underway.

We will find him.

We will kneel in adoration or we will die trying.

Every effort we make to bring peace to ourselves brings peace to us all.

I choose peace over war and love over hate and unity over political division.

Tiny Tim is alive; he is just hidden under a heart full of grief and loss.

Look up and look within. Do not succumb to the lie that you must suffer.

The Christ child is within; He will make you whole.

Vicki Woodyard