Is it Still Christmas

As a kid growing up in Hawaii Christmas seem to last for several months. Gifts came by way of a 5 day ship trip. But depending on postage rate you chose it could take 14 to 60 days. And relatives would send things three months early to 5 days before Christmas so it went on for quite a while. It is now 4 days after December 25. Is it still Christmas? If you celebrate this day as Jesus' birthday you are probably aware it wasn't likely the 25 of December and therefore, to avoid missing it we should probably celebrate every day. If you celebrate the day as a day to "give" we should probably have an attitude of "giving" every day. I regularly hear we should remember every day that Christ will come to our hearts and reside. I know. My first reaction was "Yes, of COURSE!" My second reaction was "I wonder if we have any Little Debbies left." My third reaction was "Wait a minute, what did the question mean and what did I mean?" (You might guess I strongly desire clarity.) Jesus. In me. Every day. No, an xray of me won't show an image of Him. But what others see me DO could show Him. As a manager, it happens: - when I talk to a staff member about a behavioral problem- - when I talk to a difficult patient - when I make a policy decision - when I make a charging, pricing, coding, or compliance decision - when I have to deal with a difficult peer on an issue that may not have a win-win solution. Was someone able to quietly say "oh, that is what Jesus is like?" Of course if to you Christmas revolves around the new leather jacket you wanted and did or didn't get, I guess Christmas is over until next year this time.

Uncle Bill Richey

As I spend the day painting our house inside I can't help but think of my Uncle Bill Richey whose house we would visit each summer for family reunions. He was a house painter. I don't think I ever saw him painting but I remember the brushes, paint cans, ladders, canvasses, the smell of paint and thinner around the garage. I remember how old he looked with knarelled hands from years of painting. Today I'm priming the upstairs hall and stairway. As I'm painting the smells and tools bring back the memories of opening that garage door, picking up some of his tools and holding them, and dreaming of someday being a heroic housepainter like him. Imagine being able to transform an old looking room into something new. Then later I had a career painting. Well, it was a couple of weeks painting Mrs. Yamashiro's Beritania Street apartments. "Heroic" sort of escaped me. But transformation was still a marvelous thing to behold. Now I wonder what Uncle Bill would think of us sissies who need easy clean up latex, Home Depot "experts", "I think I cut myself. No, not there, here. See, I think that is blood," airless sprayers, "ow my neck hurts from looking up," "where's my ice tea," "ow, I got something in my eye," "I think I'm almost done?" I become determined to do better. Maybe I'll start a second career . . . .