Sunday night, a homeless man died on the steps just outside the entrance to the men’s drop-in shelter at Grace Episcopal Church in Madison, WIsconsin, the church I serve. I don’t know much more than that. Apparently he had left Grace to go to one of the overflow shelters to spend the night. I don’t know what the cause of death was.
My father once sat me down on the couch and placed a map of Central Europe in my lap. He pointed to two major cities and said, ”We have five months to get from London to Copenhagen. You plan our route.”
While others have been making—and maybe even already breaking—new year’s resolutions or choosing their one word for 2014, I’m still holding onto Christmas. After all, it was only this Sunday at church that our magi finally arrived at the nativity scene in front of the sanctuary.