It was late in December, and shoppers were busy finding last minute gifts for all of their friends and relatives. Mary, though, had no time for the seasonal bustle. She had to travel to the little town of Bethlehem for taxes or something. The weather forecast called for snow, and she was nine-months pregnant, but taxes don't care about that kind of thing. So Mary, and her husband Joseph, got on their donkey and were driving to Bethlehem on Christmas Eve.

Of course, finding a hotel room on Christmas Eve proved tricky. Everyone's out-of-town relatives were in for the holidays, and they had filled up every room, even at the shady-looking motel run by the Pakistani family. By then, the snow was starting to accumulate, and Mary's water had broken. In desperation, they sought shelter in a barn with no front wall, a cow on one side, a horse on the other, and a manger in the middle. There was just enough space for one of them to stand on each side of the manger.

Out in the mountains, sheep were searching for grass in the snow. One of them said to the shepherd boy, "Do you see what I see?" The boy looked, and noticed a choir of angels, playing harps and singing Christmas carols. He asked what was going on, and they told him that Jesus was in Bethlehem. He got the other shepherds, and the sheep, and they went to the address the angels had given them.

Meanwhile, things were dicey at Herod's castle. Three oriental kings had shown up and demanded to see baby Jesus, because they had heard about him from a star. The guards lowered the drawbridge and let them in, but no one could find Jesus anywhere in the castle. Finally, they asked some people who had paid attention when the Christmas story was read at church, and  they said that baby Jesus was supposed to be in Bethlehem.

The three kings got back on their camels and drove to Bethlehem. They had to drive slowly, due to all the snow, and so they arrived  after the shepherds and the little drummer boy. Fortunately, the star turned into a spotlight that pointed at Jesus, so they found him easily. They went in and saw baby Jesus in the manger. There was a glowing circle around his head that lit up the whole barn. By then, Mary had completely recovered from childbirth and was standing next  to the manger. The kings gave gold and some other stuff to baby Jesus. Then they all bowed down around the manger and prayed to him.

They stayed at the manger to watch the ball drop on New Year's Eve, and then the shepherd went to tell it on the mountains, over the hills, and everywhere. And they all lived happily ever after.

I have a tendency, when writing, of taking many days to complete something. I will start it one day, and come back several times over the next week, usually with lots of time between editing sessions. Even worse, I don't make a habit of saving my changes.

My computer is on a battery backup, so I don't have to worry about unexpected power outages, and my programs generally have some sort of automatic backup anyhow. However, the internet has not yet reached the sophistication of native applications.

Of particular interest in this scenario is Wordpress's insistence on using "nonces" for security. These are codes that must be submitted with every request. They prevent cross-site request forgery and additionally expire after a short period of time. This expiration can prove troublesome for someone like me, who may not save his changes for periods exceeding twenty-four hours.

Whenever you try to save a post with an expired nonce, you get a message that says "Are you sure you want to do this?" Even if you are, your changes are tossed out, and you are sent back to the post editor with the previous save loaded, and no sign of your recent work. As you can imagine, this is a bit frustrating.

Then, a miracle happens. After a couple of seconds, a box appears above the post title. "The backup in your browser is different than the version below. Would you like to load it?" I'm not sure what sort of black magic is involved here, but I appreciate it. Good job, Wordpress.

Ecstatic bursts of speech were a hallmark of ancient pagan religions. In Jewish culture, they had become proverbial ((Matthew 6:7)). However, such outbursts had no place in the first century temple. The Jewish religion was too dignified for such marks of religious mania. For the Judeans in the temple that day, the sudden tumult of voices speaking words they did not know raised suspicions.

Were these people, like the famed Oracle at Delphi, carried away in a drug-induced religious trance? Would they turn dangerous? At least at Delphi there was always a priest standing by to translate the Oracle's mysterious babbling into vaguely useful information about whether you should buy a new field or send your soldiers into battle. Who would explain these strange happenings?

The big Galilean who finally addressed the crowd ((Acts 2:14)) in their local tongue did not have the look of a priest. In fact, he was about as unlike a priest as it was possible to be. Clearly an uneducated laborer, the man was coarse and unkempt. Yet, like John the Baptist before him, Peter made an impression on the crowd. Those who had been mocking only moments later, quieted to hear his explanation.

The day finally arrived. Our house guest has found herself a new place to live. To say she has "moved out" may be a bit of an overstatement, as many boxes of her things still remain in our library. Still, she is spending her nights at her new house, and has returned one of the keys we gave her.

We've started the process of restoring our house to its previous state, and taking inventory of the things that appear to have left along with our guest. Kelly has been passing along her findings to our guest so that they can be returned to us.

I suppose all of this demands a summary, so that my future self can check here if memory fails. Overall, I think I would gladly allow another displaced person to reside here for a while. In fact, we've still got a few of those offers open at the moment.

What I would do differently, however, is to restrict future guests more strictly at first. Allowing someone free access to the house has proven to be very stressful for Kelly, as her plans around the house often end up being the victim. Setting boundaries may help to ensure that Kelly doesn't end up completely frustrated at the end.

This morning I saw the news that Kentucky will not be granting Answers in Genesis's "Ark Encounter" park its twenty-five percent tax discount that other tourist attractions in the state receive. Their reason is that AIG's hiring practices, which require employees to self-identify as Christians, are discriminatory.

I'm not really interested in whether this is an attack on religious liberty, a stand against indoctrination, or any of that stuff. Those issues seem to be adequately addressed in the comment sections of various news articles. What I'd like to talk about is strategy.

Is this just a brilliant gambit by AIG? It's not like their hiring policy actually makes any sense for them, but it's a very nice red herring to bargain with later. Consider the following:

1. It's not exactly hard to lie about whether you're a Christian. Plenty of people do it for far less than a job.
2. A group of self-avowed Christians is not going to have fewer internal disputes than a mixed group.
3. Reaching non-Christians is a primary goal of AIG's ministry. What better way than to hire them to work alongside you every day?
4. There can still be a code of conduct for employees to ensure they stick to the script while inside the park.
5. Does it make a difference to the experience if the guy selling lemonade at the concession stand is a Buddhist?
6. Having non-Christians on staff limits the perception that questionable practices might be covered up due to religious pressure.

As it currently stands, there is a public outcry against this policy, and people are saying "We would support you if it weren't for this discriminatory practice." For AIG to turn this to a significant advantage, all they need do is wait. After a suitable stalling period, to build up some pressure, they can change that hiring rule and make a press release about wanting to include people of all beliefs.

That's good press, and those who said they were unreasonable will have to applaud AIG's willingness to include non-Christians, or risk being accused of being anti-religious themselves. Well played.

Dear Miss,

I don't make a habit of responding to all of the correspondence we receive here at the North Pole, but in this case I feel I must make an exception. You appear to some misapprehension about what it is we do here. In case you have forgotten, I have included a copy of the text from your original letter below, with my own comments at places I feel need clarified.

I am glad to see that you understand that good behavior should be rewarded. However, our target audience dictates that we specialize in toys rather than luxury goods. It is also against our ethical guidelines to deal in animal pelts.

Santa baby, a '54 convertible too, light blue;

Here at the North Pole, we build all items from scratch when requested. Vintage items are not kept in stock. Once again, I must mention that our focus is children, particularly the disadvantaged.

It is against our policies to enter a house while anyone remains awake. We feel it keeps everything simpler.

Think of all the fun I've missed; Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed;

I'll admit, this one stumped me. However, I had a team of my best elf investigators look into it further, and they were able to come up with a list of twelve possible names.

Next year I could be just as good... if you check off my Christmas list

Christmas gifts are given as a reward for good behavior in the previous year, not as a bribe to ensure good behavior in the next. I realize this concept may be new to you, as my records indicate you have never held a job.

Santa baby, I want a yacht and really that's not a lot;

Actually, it is.

Been an angel all year; Santa baby,

I have checked my list twice, and feel there must be an accounting error on your side. According to our records, you have been vain, abusive, and manipulative all year.

So hurry down the chimney tonight.

Santa honey, one little thing I really need...

Given all the children around the world who are actually in need, I feel that I must disagree with your using that word in this context.

Platinum? You strike me more as a gold digger.

We do not use any currency here. Bringing joy to children is all the riches we require.

Come and trim my Christmas tree with some decorations bought at Tiffany's;

Decorating your tree is your own responsibility.

While belief is important, gifts are not given solely on that basis.

Very clever.

With the large number of deliveries required in one day, I assure you haste will not be lacking. However, your requests for this year have been declined. I would encourage you, in the coming year, to spend more time looking to the welfare of others, and less time increasing your own material possessions.

Finally, the photograph you included with your letter was unnecessary, as my elves can identify the sender of every letter based solely on handwriting. Also, I ask that you not soak your next letter in perfume. It sent several of the elves in the sorting department into asthmatic fits.

I've sung the songs that call Jesus "the hope of nations". I know that "gospel" means good news. Yet, from time to time, I lose my connection with that. It's partially because I've been wrong a lot. I've learned that nothing is really good or bad, but that it's all about who you're talking to at the moment. What one person considers wonderful, the next considers an abomination. I've learned it's just safer to assume that nothing is an absolute good.

Then, I'm confronted with Jesus. A man who cared for the alien, who gave healing to the sick, and friendship to the sinner. A man who saw the wickedness of the human race, yet gave grace to those who knew they didn't deserve it. A man who spoke out against the corruption of religion. A man who forgave the soldiers who drove nails into his wrists. A man who died in the place of the rebels who rejected him.

If that is what God is like, isn't that good news for us all?

In my land there is a mountain that everyone is forced to climb. Its slope is treacherous, and enemies lie in wait to attack any who try to reach the summit. I went to the mountain, I overcame its challenges, and was crowned king of the mountain. I returned the next day, free to travel its face without fear. I watched others attempting the climb, and saw them fall, defeated. One boy was almost to the summit, climbing a vertical rock wall, when his fingers slipped. He was close enough that I could see the fear and disappointment in his eyes as he fell. I heard his cry for help, and watched him crash into the rocks below. I abdicated my throne that day. I climbed down the mountain, placed my crown on his head, and carried his broken body to the top. I patrol this mountain now, protecting the weak and carrying the defeated. They mocked me. "That's not how the mountain works," they said, but I am changing the mountain.

As the spirit of God poured into the disciples, they proclaimed that Jesus was Lord. The words springing from their lips were in languages they did not know, but their hearts knew it was truth. They watched as some moved farther away, annoyed by their outburst, and others moved closer, eager to hear their message.

Foreign tongues being shouted in the temple had never happened before. Even though they'd waited eagerly all week for the fulfillment of Jesus's promise, they hadn't imagined it like this. Then again, when Jesus was involved, the unexpected was the order of the day. The crowd around them grew, and so did the chance that temple guards would be sent to disperse them.

The eleven apostles gathered together. Peter, as usual, took the lead. He found a place where the crowd of pilgrims could see him and bellowed at the onlookers ((Acts 2:14)) in Aramaic: "Listen, my good Judeans. I have something very important to tell you. You think, because you cannot understand their words, that these people are drunk. Quite the opposite. We haven't even had breakfast yet!" ((Act 2:15))

Have you ever watched in horror as someone repeatedly makes bad decisions? You think to yourself, "They must have learned from that," yet there is always a next time. There are a few people in my life like that. Some eventually did turn things around. Others aren't quite there yet. I'm not sure where this story fits.

Growing up in the American public school system, one of the greatest evils I was warned against was smoking. I still remember the pictures in my health textbook showing red healthy lungs next to black diseased lungs. There were stickers, comic books, and videos warning of the danger. Since no one in my immediate family, or even circle of friends, smoked around me, it was never a great temptation. As far as I can remember, no one ever tried to peer pressure me into trying a cigarette.

In more recent years, I've realized that smoking is not a great evil. It's an addiction, and a dangerous one, but the people who smoke are mostly victims, not villains. I've made friends with a few smokers, and try to avoid flinching at the smell of ash when I'm around them. I actually like the smell of tobacco, just not when it's on fire. One area where I do draw the line, though, is allowing them to smoke inside the house, as that would be an imposition on our non-smoking guests.

Our house guest was not a smoker when she moved in a month ago. Old habits die hard, though, and as the stress of her divorce got under her skin, the cigarettes returned. Aware that smoking inside the house was not allowed, she would escape to her car, where she rapidly burned through a cigarette and returned to the house reeking of smoke.

My nose isn't that sensitive. Even when I know to pay attention for a smell, I still sometimes miss it. Kelly is just the opposite, and being in the first trimester of her pregnancy has made her sense of smell around ten times more sensitive. She would walk around the house and tell me exactly what our house guest had touched after one of her smoke breaks. A bit of quick research suggested that this "third hand smoke" during pregnancy was linked to lung development issues. It was not a startling find, but it was enough to make it clear something needed to be done.

When confronted with the difficulties caused by her new habit, our guest revealed that she actually had electronic cigarettes (which don't burn into toxic ash), but chose not to use them. She agreed to upgrade her addiction, and, for the moment, that particular hiccup seems resolved.