Adults are tempted to produce and perform Christmas for their kids and their families, and they arrive at Christmas Day weary and disillusioned.
Pick up a yardstick to measure your life against anyone else's, and you've just picked up a stick and beaten up your own soul.
Comparison is a thug that robs your joy. But it's even more than that - Comparison makes you a thug who beats down somebody - or your soul.
A simplified Christmas isn't about circumstances as much as it is about focus.
Scales always lie. They don't make a scale that ever told the truth about value, about worth, about significance.
The real romantics are the boring ones - they let another heart bore a hole deep into theirs.
