As many of us enjoy our Christmas season amidst our varying degrees of affluence, we must not overlook those among us who, in what for most is one of the happiest times of the year, are suffering.  In countless ways.  In particular, I am thinking about one, the thousands of people who are dealing with the aftermath of the tornadoes that swept through an incredibly large swatch of the American South and Midwest.  On a daily basis, natural disasters afflict humans all over the world, yes, and each instance is, for those touched by them, horrific.  Nonetheless, the devastation left by these windstorms is nearly beyond comprehension.

    Two, I think about the Afghanis who, lured by hollow promises of the Belarusian  government to come to its country and subsequently migrate to Europe, are doing nothing of the kind.  Prohibited from moving over the border to Poland, they are living in the snow filled forests without shelter, with no relief in sight.

    Three, I remember one of our neighbors whose mother is slowly dying, fracturing the joy of the season.  Christmas will be unspeakably different for her and her family this year.

    And then I wonder, given the innately divine goodness and purposefulness of the world, how to put it all together.  Advent's particularly potent expression of God's light therefore reminds us of how much we, walking as "in a riddle," need to believe in it.

    And, in the biggest picture, very little more.