What thoughts come to mind when you think of the word history? Do the syllables conjure up memories of dreadfully boring school assignments and dusty books, prescribed by teachers whose minds were dustier still? Or, does a more romantic feeling overcome you? Feelings of deep mystery and high adventure; long shadows of thought cast by untold, ancient memory and the dwindling light of torches as they dance upon Roman forts and ancient pyramids. Indeed, what does history mean to

Behold the mystery of mysteries as the infinite becomes infant. Marvel as God condescends to man in matchless humility; swaddling Himself not only in simple cloths but flesh itself. Tremble before the mighty truth that eternal God took on a human nature while still reigning as sovereign King who rules from everlasting to everlasting in light unapproachable.

Sasha, mine and Elaina’s Australian Labradoodle, had only been gone for a few days before the signs of her absence became clear. By gone, I do not mean deceased; she was simply out of the house. Out of the country, in fact. Indeed, our dog was on vacation in Florida.