The sign.

Photo (c)2006 by Andrew Hall, PortlandBridges.com

So - it's that time of year! What time of year you ask? Time to celebrate the joys of the Christmas season. How do I know? Just look at the picture! What do you see? You see it too? The red nose? Yeah!!!

I cannot completely put into words the feeling of utter joy which soared through me a few nights ago when I was exiting I-84 West and headed onto I-5 South....and what to my wondering eyes did appear? They've changed the sign! The 'whit stag' on the Made in Oregon sign has become Rudolph! It's one of the designations that I can officially begin playing Christmas music whenever I want; that I can go shopping and no one will complain; that I can help my mom decorate her tree; that once again I can look forward to opening gifts with family.

I love Christmas.

But what I love most of all is the fact that even though the world tries to take the "Christ" out of the holiday, it's one of the few times a year that people may actually listen to the story of the Savior.

Don't argue with me that he wasn't born on December 25th...because I read a story in the Harding newspaper one time that explained it this way: If someone didn't know when my exact birthday was - I wouldn't care if they just picked a day!

That's it. They picked a day. Let's take the opportunity provided.

And even though there are so many more things I love about the Christmas season - my favorite thing will always be that I may have the chance to explain the story of 'the Christ' to someone - and they may actually take a second to listen - just because it's Christmas.

Inspired

I have many friends, and a few family members, who believe in the "blogosphere." It has become my morning habit (right before I start work) to check in on a select number of those blogs. They entertain me, they update me, and they encourage me.

So, I guess it is time to add to the world of blogs. You all needed one more to check, right? It does not bother me that no one may read it, or more likely, no one may ever comment. I just need a place to put my thoughts down sometimes.

Don't expect Pulitzer Prize literature here. It's just me -- and what Arly calls "random confusion."