Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
Epiphany celebrates Christ’s revelation to all people through the worship of the magi, reminding us that Jesus is revealed beyond tradition and history and still calls us today to seek Him, recognize His presence, and be transformed by worship.
’Tis the season for year for the media to look back and write about old news. The lists tell more about the compiler than the stories themselves.
A lot has changed in a year. The entire world has changed. Many will tell you that 2025 has been full of bad stuff—the media, for example.
I receive a lot of questions. They come in the form of emails, private messages, subpoenas, etc. I cannot answer them all, but I am able to answer a few.
The week between Christmas and the New Year invites us to use these quiet days between to slow down, reflect, and rest in the presence of the Lord through stillness, scripture, and trust in His guidance.
If hindsight is 20/20, then 2025 was a year where irony is produced by algorithms and politicians think diplomacy is a TikTok trend. To toast our survival is the annual Rear-View Awards, the only column where irony is not just a category, it is the entire piece.
Every few years, somebody dusts off that 2007 YouTube-special “documentary” Zeitgeist like it’s forbidden knowledge smuggled out of the Vatican basement.
The Associated Press published an article warning against the health hazards of using fireplaces. Yes, holiday fireplaces are cozy. Yes, they’re festive. Yes, fireplaces have existed within our hominid culture ever since Adam discovered he had no belly button. But…
Every December, right on schedule, someone announces with great confidence that writing “Xmas” is a sinister attempt to erase Christ. Cue the outrage, the memes, and the self-appointed guardians of seasonal orthodoxy. And every year, history calmly clears its throat, raises one eyebrow, and says: “Actually… no.”
A supermarket checkout line. Cheesy holiday music is playing overhead. Not the fun kind of cheesy music, but the kind once heard in Kmart á la 1973.
It’s hard to choose my favorite Christmas movie. Each time I try to pick one, I’m afraid I’ll shoot my eye out.
Obviously, the Christian message about the Creator and Sovereign of the Universe sending part of himself to be human and experience his own creation is the hallmark of December.
All the kids were sitting criss-cross on the floor in a big hotel lobby, some sipping from paper cups of hot chocolate, most wearing pajamas.
Sweet Home Alabama & the Army-Navy Game: A story of a decades-old military academy rivalry coupled with good, old-fashioned Southern Patriotism.
The Christmas season was the busiest time of year for delivery-persons. Drivers saw a major uptick in workload. This did nothing to improve John’s sunny disposition.
Letters from the children of Christmas Past. RHINELANDER, WI—1933. Dear Santa Claus, I am sorry I haven’t wrote before but my pet dog got his leg broke and I thought we would hafta have him killed but he will get well. …I am nine years old and bring me, dear old Santa, what you think …
We arrived at the Christmas tree lot after dark. My wife and I walked the long aisles of pinery, scrutinizing each tree as though it were asking for our kid’s hand in marriage.
It was Christmas Eve. Pa arrived back at the cabin in the wagon. His buckboard was loaded with crates and supplies. It was snowing heavily in the Appalachians that night.
This year, let’s slow down amid the frenzy of the Christmas season, seek the quiet light of God’s presence, and rediscover the peace and wonder of Christ’s birth.
Wake up early. Still dark outside. It is 30-odd degrees on Lake Martin and I can’t feel my unmentionables.
The 1940s cabin is poorly insulated. You could store Ben & Jerry’s products in the living room.