It’s a time for adding up, taking stock, for looking inside and looking ahead.
It’s a season of stories and parables that outlast the flux of headlines and blaring broadcasts.
For those who grow and provide food for the world, the stories and parables are meaningful indeed. People, in fact, are known by the fruits they produce.
The harvest is plentiful but the workers few, and not all seeds take root and flourish.
There truly is a season for all things under heaven. But more than anything else, it is a season of hope.
The days are shortest now, but soon they will lengthen, and seed and plant will stir again to new life.
It was in this season that hope was born into the world.
The remarkable thing is that not even the tinsel and the gush of rampant materialism can drown out that hope.
Good ideas don’t die; they turn up again, even in the midst of winter.