The Unclad Soul

I was out recently in the Christmas crowd shopping for my grandchildren. They don’t really need a thing. They have so much. They fortunately live within the amazing care of a dad and mom who adore and cherish and abundantly provide for them. I wanted to just package up some hugs and kisses and send those as my gifts. Wouldn’t that be enough? It would, for them. They would be perfectly fine with such gifts. But I followed the rest of the holiday legion to Target and elsewhere to lend my effort to our society’s commercial Christmas mania. There is that line in Dr. Seuss’ famous “The Grinch That Stole Christmas” that nudges me this time of year: “ Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!”   Well, there’s an old fashioned idea for you. A sadly archaic thought buried beneath the nearest mall’s concrete foundation conveniently silenced far beyond the...

I have thought lately about Louis L’Amour’s novel, “The Proving Trail,” the story of a young man who goes off to find his father’s killer.  The journey becomes more about him proving himself than it does proving who his father’s murderer was. Life is often a proving trail. I have a good friend who recently went in for a kind of routine brain surgery, if there is such a thing, only to be told the tumor the doctor thought was harmless turned out to be malignant and the prognosis not good.  A loving husband and father of a darling young daughter he now faces challenging treatments and involved medical procedures.  But his spirits are high and he is determined to beat the odds.  He is a tough, smart guy who loves life and he is walking his proving trail with remarkable courage.  I cheer him on and find in his faith, hope for my own feeble beliefs.  Another dear friend recently came to the awareness that perhaps in her childhood she was sexually ab...