Pastor Bo: The beautiful imperfections of Christmas
I'm really not sure where she got it from, but my youngest daughter is a Christmas tree perfectionist.

I'm really not sure where she got it from, but my youngest daughter is a Christmas tree perfectionist.

Let's go ahead and get the negative stuff out of the way right up front: canned cranberry sauce is the creation of a mad scientist, a gelatinous glob of unnatural goop so unpalatable as to make the aliens lock their doors in horror as they pass by Earth on their way to more cultured planets.

The little guy's eyes were wide, and his mouth a bit agape as he looked up at me last Sunday in the vestibule after morning worship. He had a question, and his mother nudged him a bit to get him to go ahead and ask it.

I am convinced of two things at once that seem to not go together. One, I am convinced that America is the greatest country on Earth.
It is not at all unusual for me to receive emails concerning the columns I write. And, whether positive or negative, I appreciate them all.

I have had to do a lot of apologizing over the last several days, and the fault is not at all my own, in this case.

Between life as a pastor in my hometown, recent travels on mission trips, revivals and a bit of vacation, and several trips back and forth to the North Carolina mountains for relief efforts, my head is pretty well spinning. So please bear with me as I attempt to grab some of those random recent thoughts and get them onto paper.

It has been a very long week. What began as a one-day effort to clean up and recover in our area quickly morphed into an every-day effort to get supplies and relief to all the affected areas of western North Carolina.

Where to even begin, with a column like this ...

When I first became a newspaper columnist nearly 13 years ago, America was a very different place.
