I don’t like the axiom, “Remember the reason for season.” Christians like to brandish this phrase on all manner of social media posts as they opine a society that has seemingly forgotten what Christmas is all about. The commercialization of Christmas has superseded the meaning of the season.
Fatherhood has become my most cherished title. I love being a dad and watching my daughter grow and learn and play and become who she is. Fatherhood has also, though, baptized me in the waters of children’s television, which, if you’re unfamiliar, is a genre of entertainment rife with princesses, anthropomorphic animals, and, seemingly, no shortage of moral codas to clumsily tack on shallow plots.
I like you probably, have an uncontrollable aversion to any food product that is past its expiration date. Even if it’s only by a few hours. I don’t care what food or drink you give me, if it’s anywhere close to being over that “best by” date, to me it’s an offering straight from the devil’s kitchen that’ll surely torment my bowels.
Despite being a large book with a vast history, the Bible tells one story. This, indeed, is what makes it such a miraculous book. Even though its pages comprise words and letters from 40 different authors, spanning approximately 1,500 years, the Bible has one note, one plot line: Christ crucified for sinners.