There’s something magical about experiencing Christmas through the eyes of a child who still believes in Saint Nick. It brings excitement and anticipation of what he’ll leave under the tree on Christmas morning. But no matter how old you are, there’s still something magical about Christmas morning.

With the Christmas season comes family traditions — traditions that may be a little silly, while others bring emotions out that remind us of a particular Christmas or maybe a loved one that is no longer with us. 

For me, Christmas brings back memories of a time that seemed so simple, a time when my biggest worry as a kid was if Santa was going to accidentally pass my house without stopping. I always wondered after our visit at the Sears and Roebuck store, “Did Santa understand exactly what I wanted for Christmas?” The man never took notes, so how was he going to remember what I asked for? 

After all, I could not have been any clearer on what gift I wanted! I can only think of maybe two times that he forgot. You know, he does have a long list with a lot of names which makes his job awfully difficult.

When it comes to traditions, there are a few that my wife and I have passed on to our children. First, we never miss our Christmas Eve service at the First United Methodist Church with great music, an inspiring message, and the lighting of the candles. 

My wife’s side of the family includes six brothers and sisters who all have children and grandchildren of their own. Everyone has done their part to add to the family tree, which means we now have a lot of youngsters running around.  

Each year after the Christmas Eve church service, we gather as a family of 40-plus at one house for food and the passing out of matching Christmas pajamas. The pajama crusade has been a long-standing tradition that can be difficult for one person to handle on their own with the gathering of sizes and placing the order. 

But one thing that has stood the test of time is the annual building of the human pyramid, everybody donning their new pajamas. The only thing that has changed over the years with the pyramid is who is on the bottom, as people change due to fluctuation in sizes! (Hopefully I’m not offending any family reading this!)

Another tradition for us takes place on Christmas morning as we bake cinnamon rolls, place a candle in one, and sing happy birthday to Jesus. This tradition has gone on for 44 years! 

After everyone has celebrated and opened gifts Christmas morning at their own homes, all will gather at the grandparents for round two of more food, fun and games along with the exchange of gifts.  

While throughout the years we have joyfully welcomed new members into the family, we have sadly lost others and miss them dearly. But this is all a part of life itself. Nothing ever stays the same. 

With age comes growing appreciation for the blessings of getting to be a part of such a loving family. People you can lean and count on in time of need. People who know who you are and what you’ve been through. 

So, this Christmas, become a kid again and take the time to count your blessings and enjoy your family! Because you never know when it might be the last time you get to spend a Christmas together. Merry Christmas, everyone!!!

Much of my Christmas nostalgia is wrapped in the glow of those big, old fashioned colored bulbs—the ones that could heat a small apartment—and the shimmering glory of an aluminum Christmas tree spinning under a color wheel. I was a child of the 60s, after all. Only in that decade could a tree made of tinsel, decorated with blue ornaments, and illuminated by absolutely no lights of its own be considered the height of holiday sophistication. And you know what? I loved it. Those memories still shine for me, even if a few of them come with some spiritual scar tissue.

I grew up in a sprawling extended family. My dad was an only child, but he came from a clan that reproduced cousins the way Louisiana reproduces mosquitoes—by the thousands and without apology. Every Christmas we gathered at my great-grandmother’s house for the annual cousin gift exchange. Names were drawn at Thanksgiving, rules were followed, and gifts were opened with military precision.

It was Christmas 1968—easy to remember, because I’d been up half the night watching Apollo 8 circle the moon. Humanity was reaching for the heavens… and meanwhile, down on Earth, my cousin Wally was plotting a lunar landing of his own. On my gift.

I opened that widget—my widget, given to me by my great-grandmother herself. I can still point to the exact spot on the floor where I sat when I unwrapped it. But somewhere between that moment of joy and the time we loaded up the car, the widget vanished. Gone. Disappeared. Beamed up, perhaps, by Cousin Wally, who boldly claimed it was his. It was not. I knew it then, and I know it now. Wally took it. That rat.

And ever since that fateful day, I have developed a Christmas quirk. If you give me a gift, I will—without hesitation, without shame, without regard for weather conditions—march it straight to my car. I have been known to sprint through a downpour like a shepherd chasing a runaway sheep, all to protect a tin of cookies or a festive mug. My family knows this about me. My church knows this about me. I know this about me. And honestly, it makes me laugh every time I do it, because I can still see Wally’s face in 1968, claiming my widget like he was planting a flag on the moon.

Have you ever had something stolen? It’s funny how one small childhood moment can linger in the corners of your heart. Part of me still fears losing a gift, even though I know that fear is completely out of step with what Christmas is really about. Christmas isn’t about the presents under the tree—or the ones your cousin swipes when you’re not looking. Christmas is about a relationship with Jesus.

God sent His Son into the world so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. Jesus is the gift that cannot be misplaced, stolen, regifted, or claimed by Cousin Wally. He is yours, forever.

My prayer is that you experience the love of Jesus every day of your life.

Merry Christmas!

Sending text messages has become an integral part of life for most of us. It has become such a common activity that we instinctively reach for our phones and begin tapping out a message rather than placing a voice call. The most common text messages today are, “I love you,” “when will you be home,” and “where are you,” respectively. The birth of our modern text messaging system can be traced back to December 3, 1992.

In 1992, 22-year-old Neil Papworth was working as a software engineer for the now-defunct Anglo-French information technology company Sema Group Telecoms. For about a year and a half, Neil was part of a team that was searching for a way to transmit short text messages for Vodafone, a British telecommunications company. At the time, the only function cell phones could perform consisted of making and receiving telephone calls. Telecommunication companies knew that cell phones had the potential to do more, and they knew adding functions would lead to huge profits. Vodafone wanted to add a pager feature (remember pagers?) into cell phones. Neil and his team spent months testing and troubleshooting the one-way messaging system. The main problem was that they had to create a text messaging system that would interact flawlessly with any cell phone on the market.

Vodafone had invested a lot of money in the system and wanted to show the world that it worked. On December 3, 1992, Neil sat in his office in Newbury, England, hoping that the text messaging system he and his team created would function as expected. After checking and rechecking the team’s programming, Neil typed in the cell number of Richard Jarvis, the director of Vodafone, who was hosting a Christmas party on the other side of town at the time. He typed in a short message and, as he later explained, had two thoughts: “God, I hope this works,” and “what am I going to have for dinner?” Neil explained, “for me, it was just another day at work.” This was far from a random test; Vodafone had planned to reveal their technology to the world at this party if it worked. Vodafone had numerous members of the press present to be sure the word got out. The company had planned every detail of the reveal except for what the text message would say. Without much thought, Neil typed a two-word message and sent it. Because it was a one-way text messaging system and Richard could not send a reply, Neil had to call Richard to ensure that the test was successful. Neil said, “there was a lot of relief when it worked.” By the end of 2000, cell phone users sent an average of 35 text messages per month. Today, users send an average of 52 text messages per day. Neil had no idea that text messaging would make such an impact on our daily lives.

Neil Papworth, the 22-year-old software engineer who helped change the way the world sends and receives information, who is credited with sending the first commercial text message, did not own a cell phone. He bought his first cell phone three or four years later. Although it’s been said many times, many ways, I want to share the same message with you that Neil sent the director of Vodafone. The first commercial text message in history consisted of just two words, “Merry Christmas.”

Sources:

1. The Daily Nonpareil (Council Bluffs, Iowa), June 30, 2006, p. 57.

2. Ivan Blagojevic, “23+ Texting Statistics on Modern Messaging Habits,” 99firms, August 11, 2025, https://99firms.com/research/texting-statistics/#gref.

3. “The History of SMS – Neil Papworth w/ Bonin Bough | Messaging Summit 2019,” Bonin Bough, YouTube.com, July 9, 2019, https://youtu.be/odvj7CDGHys?si=cApKpHu6tnQyuTd9.

4. “Meet the Legend Behind the first ‘Merry Christmas’ SMS,” MoreThan160, YouTube.com, December 4, 2023, https://youtu.be/1EQffh6-Y2Y?si=DpndYabbyoLNtHhl.

On December 24, 1914, the frozen battlefields of World War I witnessed one of the most astonishing and unlikely events in military history. Along multiple points of the Western Front, thousands of British and German soldiers climbed out of the trenches, exchanged greetings, and celebrated Christmas together—forming an informal truce that defied commanders and surprised the world.

By late 1914, the war had already produced staggering casualties. Trenches stretched for hundreds of miles. The ground was cold, muddy, and riddled with shell craters. Yet on this particular Christmas Eve, something unplanned and extraordinary unfolded.

As evening approached, British troops near Ypres reported seeing small lights flickering across no-man’s-land. At first, soldiers feared a trap. Soon, however, they realized the lights were candles set atop Christmas trees placed along the German parapets. Moments later, voices rose in carols. British soldiers recorded hearing the familiar tune of “Silent Night,” sung in German, followed by cheers.

What happened next defied military expectations. Soldiers on both sides began shouting holiday greetings, some in broken English or German. Eventually, individuals cautiously emerged from the trenches. As more men followed, the two forces met between the lines, shaking hands and exchanging small gifts, including tobacco, buttons, and preserved sweets.

Remarkably, several eyewitness accounts describe soldiers organizing impromptu soccer matches. Using makeshift balls and marking goals with military caps, they played in the center of the devastated battlefield. Others used the moment to bury fallen comrades who had been unreachable due to sniper fire in previous weeks.

The truce spread along stretches of the front, though not uniformly. In some areas, fighting continued. Commanders on both sides issued orders forbidding such contact, fearing that fraternization would undermine discipline. Despite this, the Christmas Eve Truce held through much of the night and into Christmas morning, with soldiers exchanging food, repairing trenches, and even assisting wounded opponents.

By December 26, leadership reasserted control, and combat recommenced. Military authorities quickly worked to prevent any repeat truces, implementing stricter guidelines and reorganizing units. Yet the memory of Christmas 1914 lived on in letters and diaries, providing future generations with a rare example of humanity amid war.

Each December 24, historians revisit this moment when soldiers facing the horrors of trench warfare chose peace, if only briefly. The Christmas Eve Truce stands as one of history’s most striking reminders that even during conflict, ordinary individuals can defy expectations to find common ground—even if just long enough to exchange a gift, share a song, or kick a soccer ball across the frozen mud.

There are many things or hobbies in life that we enjoy, and for me that would be tournament bass fishing. But like many other hobbies, fishing bass tournaments is expensive and no matter how hard you try, you just can’t justify the cost! For myself, with over 30 years of tournament experience, here’s how this works.

I don’t care what level you’re fishing, whether club tournaments, pro-am, weekend warrior or professionally, it’s hard to break even. Now some guys will boast that they have been making money for years with tournaments. Liars! They just hope their wives don’t figure out how much money they are spending on fishing!

They want you to think they’re making money because they’re not looking at the whole picture and, in most cases, don’t want to! It’s a sport that has so many hidden costs that anglers forget by choice.

Very few anglers sit down and truly put a pencil to how much money it costs to fish any tournament trail. If you’re really honest with yourself and include everything, the numbers just don’t add up.

First, there are entry fees which can range from $150 to $300 per event for lower-level events like the BFL’s and team tournament trails. On the high-level circuits and the professional side, entry fees can range from $1,700 up to $5,000 per tournament.

Next, you’ve got to make sure you have insurance for your boat. You’ll not only need collision, but most high-level pro/am events won’t let you enter without $300,000 in liability insurance.

Now let’s talk about boat gas expense, which can vary depending on how long the tournament is. Some events are one day while others are three days, but you also have at least three days of practice. This means you’re looking at 5 or 6 days per event.

Gas prices obviously fluctuate, but on average for me I spend anywhere from $125 up $175 just on boat gas alone. Truck gas, I usually spend around $150 up to $200 depending on how far away the tournament is.

Ok, we’ve covered gas and entry fees, now let’s look at housing. The one good thing that really helps with this is having a couple of other anglers to help split the cost. On average, for five days and nights which includes practice time, you’re probably looking at around $300 each if you find a really good deal.

Food! This can be an area where you can cut a few corners. Eating out is expensive and convenient but it can also be costly. Hopefully you have a couple of guys in your house who can cook and don’t mind doing it.

I will cook at least one night, sometimes two. It might be homemade burgers one night or spaghetti another night. I‘ve also made a good vegetable beef soup or chili, which is nice on those cold early events. Cooking your own meals is certainly one way to reduce expenses.

Now for me, I usually bring something for breakfast like a sausage biscuit or maybe I’ll eat a small turkey sandwich. Then I’ll pack another turkey sandwich for lunch. This way, I’m only actually eating out one meal at night which will be in the range of $15 to $25 per dinner.

But the one thing that we must add into the cost of tournament fishing: tackle! Holy cow, the money I have spent on the road simply because I’ve run out of a particular color worm or lost a crankbait that I must replace or maybe I’ve had a lot of breakoffs and need more hooks or weights.

One thing I do now, that I did not do early in my fishing career, is bring extra tackle with me that I think I might need for a particular body of water. But it never fails, no matter how many containers I bring full of baits and tackle, there will be that one thing I did not pack and must go buy. But that’s the life as an angler!

As you can see, tournament fishing is and can be very expensive. It is a sport that requires money if you want to compete. What I’m starting to realize after all my years of doing this is that nowadays just having the skill of catching fish is not good enough to fish at the highest professional level.

To fish as a pro in 2025, it takes money, and lots of it to cover all the expenses required. This to me is sad and is taking the sport in a direction that I don’t think is good. It’s now becoming a sport that is pretty much for the elites since many great fishermen can’t afford the day-to-day costs involved.

In the long run, this will not be good for the sport of professional bass fishing. Which means the average Joe, with a depleted checkbook, will no longer be welcome on any pro circuit.

If you want to experience a rich, full life—forget fairness. Life is not fair. Jesus was not fair. He said, “The last will be first and the first will be last.” That’s wonderful if you’re at the end of the line, but if you’re at the front? Well, suddenly you’re wishing you’d grabbed a cup of cocoa and stalled a bit before lining up.

Jesus told stories about workers in the field. The early morning crew had a contract. The mid-day hires had a handshake deal. By the time the late afternoon folks showed up, they had nothing but a promise.

And when payday came, everyone got the same wage. That’s not fair! Imagine the early risers muttering, “We skipped breakfast for this?” Meanwhile, the latecomers are whistling “Joy to the World” all the way to the bank.

And then there’s the older brother in the prodigal story. He’s out in the field, sweaty and tired, hearing music and laughter from the house. He’s thinking, “Great. My brother gets a party, and I get blisters.” If it had been Christmas, the father would’ve handed the younger son a stocking stuffed with candy canes and the older brother a fruitcake. Not fair—but oh so right.

Think about the thief on the cross. He never joined the church, never got baptized, never served on the finance committee (lucky him). He didn’t even have time to learn the words to “Silent Night.” All he said was, “Lord, remember me.” And Jesus replied, “This day you will be with me in paradise.” That thief is now strolling the streets of gold, probably humming “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” off-key. Not fair—but grace never is.

And the first Christmas? Talk about unfair. Mary and Joseph weren’t traveling to Grandma’s house for figgy pudding—they were trudging to Bethlehem for a Roman tax enrollment. No hotel, no Airbnb, just a barn with a cow mooing the bass line. Then Herod’s rage brought tragedy to Bethlehem. It was not fair.

But it was right.

Because justice is not about fairness—it’s about God’s power to set things right. Justice rolls down like waters, righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. And out of that stream grows grace—lavish, undeserved, overflowing grace.

So this Christmas, when someone says, “It’s not fair!”—smile and say, “Exactly. That’s the point.” Fairness gives us what we deserve. Grace gives us what we could never earn. And that’s the best Christmas gift of all.

Justice is tough. Grace is extravagant. Jesus is merciful. And thank God—He is not fair!

Erwin Perzy built and repaired surgical instruments for local physicians in Vienna, Austria.  In 1900, one of his clients requested a brighter light for his operating room.  Just 23 years earlier in 1879, Thomas Edison filed a patent for his carbon-filament lamp and thus began the electric light age.  Edison’s electric light was practical for most homes and businesses, but in 1900, light bulbs produced a warm, yellowish glow with the maximum brightness comparable to a modern 25-watt light bulb.  The dim bulbs also produced a lot of heat which meant that the assistants had to keep the bulbs a certain distance away from surgeons and their patients.  Surgeons squinted their eyes, wiped sweat from their brows, and snapped instructions to their assistants on the positioning of the dim bulbs.  If you have ever held a flashlight while your father worked on a car, you know the frustration that those surgeons and their assistants endured.  They needed a brighter light.  

Erwin began searching for ways to increase the light produced by the light bulbs while making them cooler at the same time.  Rather than looking for a brand new method, he looked to history for the answer.  For hundreds of years, shoemakers and other craftsmen used schusterkugels (cobbler-spheres), glass spheres with a tubular end filled with water, to magnify and redirect candlelight into a concentrated beam.  They were primitive spotlights.  Erwin experimented with schusterkugels, but the light was still not bright enough.  He added various substances to the water to reflect and intensify the light such as flakes of metal and fine glass particles, but they quickly sank to the bottom.  Erwin was able to intensify the light but only for about a second.  He tried just about everything he had in his workshop, but the substances either sank too quickly or failed to sink at all.  Erwin turned to his kitchen and tried a multitude of edible items, including rice and flakes of a coarse flour called semolina flakes, but none enabled him to produce a brighter light for more than a second or two.

Erwin ultimately failed to create the brighter light that the surgeon had requested, but with his failure came an accidental invention for which he received the first patent.  Erwin’s invention became popular worldwide.  He built a company to produce his invention which is still owned and operated by the fourth generation of the Perzy family.  You see, Erwin was drawn to the effect the semolina flakes produced when added to water.  With the addition of a pewter miniature of Vienna’s Mariazell church at the base of the sphere, he had created what people in German speaking countries call “schneekugels.”  You and I know Erwin Perzy’s invention as a snow globe.

Sources:

1.     “Thomas Edison Biography,” National Park Service, NPS.gov, accessed December 7, 2025, https://www.nps.gov/edis/learn/historyculture/edison-biography.htm.

2.     “Die Original Wiener Schneekugel,” Original Wiener Schneekugelmanufaktur, accessed December 7, 2025, https://schneekugel.at/geschichte.

3.     Erik Trinidad, “How an Experiment to Amplify Light in Hospital Operating Rooms Led to the Accidental Invention of the Snow Globe,” Smithsonian magazine, December 27, 2024, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/innovation/how-an-experiment-to-amplify-light-in-hospital-operating-rooms-led-to-the-accidental-invention-of-the-snow-globe-180985742/.

On December 17, 1903, a cold wind swept across the sandy dunes of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, setting the stage for one of the most transformative moments in modern history. While the Wright brothers’ first powered flight is widely taught, the unusual circumstances surrounding that morning—particularly the coin toss, the failed first attempt, and the unexpected crash—still capture the curiosity of historians and aviation enthusiasts.

The day began with a bitter 27-mph headwind, strong enough to lift sand in sweeping sheets across the dunes. Wilbur and Orville Wright had spent several seasons conducting glider experiments at Kitty Hawk due to its steady winds and isolation. But on this morning, their focus shifted to the powered Wright Flyer, a machine built from materials including spruce, muslin, and bicycle components.

Before making their historic attempt, the brothers flipped a coin to determine who would fly first. Wilbur won the toss. What followed, however, was far from the clean takeoff schools teach today. After speeding along the track, Wilbur pulled too sharply on the controls, sending the Flyer into the air briefly before it stalled and crashed back into the sand. Though the damage was minor, the failure delayed the attempt by several hours.

Following the repair, it was Orville’s turn. His flight lasted only 12 seconds, covering 120 feet—yet it marked the first controlled, sustained, powered, heavier-than-air human flight. What many overlook is that the aircraft again landed hard, breaking parts of the skids and requiring additional adjustments.

Throughout the morning, the brothers made three more attempts. Their final flight, piloted by Wilbur, lasted an impressive 59 seconds and covered 852 feet. As they wheeled the Flyer back toward camp, a gust of wind suddenly flipped the aircraft repeatedly, damaging it beyond immediate repair. The Wright Flyer never flew again.

A single photograph—taken by John T. Daniels, a lifesaving station worker who had never used a camera—captured the moment of takeoff. Daniels later recounted that he accidentally smashed the camera after the final crash while trying to break free from the tangled wreckage.

Despite the chaotic nature of the day, the achievements of December 17, 1903, changed not only transportation but global culture. What began with a coin toss, a stall, and a crash led to a technological revolution that reshaped commerce, defense, travel, and communication.

The Wright brothers’ imperfect yet groundbreaking morning remains one of the most captivating stories of innovation, demonstrating that monumental success often begins with trial, error, and a willingness to try again—sometimes in the face of wind, sand, and unexpected setbacks.