The ads have been all over TV, my email box is full of announcements from all of my friendly retailers, our kids even got a big free newspaper on Thursday morning with dozens of colorful inserts, touting the never-before-seen sales. Tomorrow is the beginning of Advent which is a season of preparation for an entirely different event than making merchants happy. I am beginning to see twinkling lights and trumpeting angels and wreaths of every hue. Decorating has begun.

I saw this scene yesterday of a wall of dilapidated doors, transformed by a holiday wreath. I hope that my shabbiness can be changed with hope of the season, and that the Prince of Peace might indeed reign in all human hearts.

This year, we celebrated Thanksgiving in Plano, Texas, at Elke and Robert's house. Robert's parents and his brother's girlfriend (who is amazing and delightful) gathered around the table for a family photo. We had plenty to eat with two turkeys and all the vegetables and desserts. I suspect your gathering may have been similar. We were glad to be here.

We have crossed Lavon Lake (just east of McKinney, Texas) numerous times since Elke and Robert moved to Plano. But this is the lowest water level I have ever seen. When we first came this way, the lake water was more than halfway up the bridge supports. Tree tops were barely sticking out of the water. I knew it had been dry in Texas but this view surprised me with its severity. And on this Thanksgiving, I simply give thanks for water, and the life it provides. I am blessed with bounteous gifts and the gathering today certainly reminds me that we have abundant resources. The meal will be a celebrative feast. But I've had Thanksgiving meals all week. And it's not the food that I appreciate: it is the blessings of relationships of family and friends. I am deeply grateful.

This beautiful skylight spans the lobby of the Nashville Union Station. The magnificent station was built in 1900 to serve the passenger needs of eight railroads routing through Nashville. Passenger service declined especially after World War 2 until there were no trains utilizing the structure after 1968. After years of deterioration, it has been restored as a hotel. I find the details of many buildings from the last century to be extravagant and likely not to be duplicated in the future. That's why it is so enjoyable that these buildings have been saved for the future.

The park in Granite City, Illinois has several Gingko trees, also commonly called "Maidenhair" because of the distinctive shape of the leaves. We had a large one near the rear door of our parsonage in Metropolis, Illinois. The leaves turn a beautiful golden yellow in the fall, and it was our experience that they would fall all in one day, usually in mid- to late November. The tree is a hardy survivor with some in China reputed to be 1500 years old. It is also called "a living fossil" as one of the oldest known trees, dating back 270 million years. One rather unique characteristic is that the tree comes in two sexes, male and female, with the female having fruit in the fall that has an unmistakable odor. It seemed as though we had a dog kennel in the back yard in the fall. Pretty leaves...

This is an ice ribbon, known by lots of other names. But I had never seen this phenomenon until I was in the south in November at just the right time. This occurs before the ground is frozen and on mornings when the temperature is below freezing. I've noticed that the optimum temperature seems to be 27 and below. Certain wildflower stalks, like ironweed and frost flower, are still green and have water in the stalks. The freezing temperatures create ice and the water continues to seep out of cracks in the stalks and create these ribbons or flowers. When I first saw them several years ago along the Interstate highway, I thought paper tissues had been caught near the fence. But I stopped, being the curious sort, and discovered dozens of these frost ribbons. They are quite fragile and easily crumble when touched. And the sun instantly melts them. From mid-November until about Christmas, on cold morning, I can find them along my road and the land behind my house. Like snowflakes, they are all unique. I already have hundreds of photographs of them. Most are usually close to the ground, but I have pictures of several that are 2 feet tall. Amazing.

Today's Gospel reading of Matthew 25:31-46 presents a stark division in a scene of final judgment, with all the nations gathered and separated into two groups with a single qualification. No pleas of correct doctrine ("I believe the correct things") or entitled positions of privilege ("Surely you must know who I am") or achievements of ethical behavior ("I've earned this by being very good") are presented to the Judge as sufficient to earn entry to the eternal kingdom and its blessings. Only a simple series of questions that ask did you feed the hungry and give refreshment to the thirsty and welcome the stranger and clothe the naked and care for the sick and visit the imprisoned. How did you give life away? 

I admit it is a challenge to see Christ in the beggars on the corner with their cardboard signs and the immigrants who don't speak English and the contagious sick and the scary criminals. But it sure looks like treating the least fortunate like one would treat Jesus is the sole criteria for inheriting the kingdom. This might be a problem...

I seldom leave my cameras behind. I took them on my mission trip to Mexico, to Liberia, and of course, to Alaska. We went on a mission trip, led by our friends the Icenogles, to Juneau. We all worked hard at a church camp and in a kitchen for the homeless. But we also had fun, especially with sightseeing. I was so excited to see the cold blue ice of a glacier up close. The ship our group was on came up into this bay, and I saw this other sailing ship at an "ideal" spot, even closer to the glacier. And for a moment, I wished I was on that boat for a closer view. But it took only an instant to realize I had a photo that no one on that boat had, a different perspective. One could get some sense of the size of the blocks of ice of the glacier by comparing them to this sailing boat. The mast gave dimension and the white hull contrasted with the blue ice. I was on the right boat, ... for a photo with dimension.