Good Tidings and Great Joy: Protecting the Heart of Christmas
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In her New York Times bestsellers Going Rogue and America by Heart, Sarah Palin revealed the strong Christian faith that has guided her life and family. In Good Tidings and Great Joy she calls for bringing back the freedom to express the Christian values of the season. She asserts the importance of preserving Jesus Christ in Christmas—in public displays, school concerts, pageants, and our expressions to one another other—and laments the over-commercialization and homogenization of Christmas in today's society.
Interwoven throughout are personal memories and family traditions, as well as more than a dozen family photos, which illustrate the reasons why the celebration of Jesus Christ's nativity is the centerpiece of her faith. Palin believes it is imperative that we stand up for our beliefs before the element of faith in a glorious and traditional holiday like Christmas is marginalized and ignored. She also encourages readers to see what is possible when we unite in defense of our religious convictions and ignore the politically correct Scrooges seeking to take Christ out of Christmas. Good Tidings and Great Joy is a call to action to openly celebrate the joys of Christianity, and say Merry Christmas to one another.
turn into Mom. My mom, Sally, always insists she neither wants nor needs anything material for Christmas or birthdays. “Save your money, honey. Just make me a homemade card,” Sally suggests. “Or write me a poem.” I must be turning into Sally. Because about five years ago, I made the same suggestion to Piper, who compiled beautiful prose about her love for her mama. I wanted nothing else. “You are good at work,” she crayoned. “I make you laff,” she added. “You are pretty as a plant,” she
Vegas. It’s the week before Todd’s two-thousand-mile snowmachine race across Alaska, so I’m thankful he could take time out of a rigorous Iron Dog training schedule to meet up with me to celebrate. I get dressed up, tease my hair as big as it will go (believing the old southern adage that “the higher the hair, the closer to heaven”), and run down to the lobby, where Todd is waiting to kick off my birthday weekend. I’m hoping we’ll head to Michael’s at Southpoint, my favorite. Todd kisses me and
it. This makes their insistence on secularizing the whole experience—by refusing to acknowledge why we’re there—particularly offensive. But not all places fumble the Christmas season. Bristol works at a dermatology office in Anchorage. Her boss, Dr. Cusack, displays a huge Nativity scene in the lobby, and the gals in the office say he leaves it up until the end of March. And the entire C Street section of Anchorage lights up when Kriner’s Diner proclaims its Christmas spirit. (They even printed
snowy hills on a “Noelco” razor. Or the simple but effective commercial by Hershey, featuring their yummy candy Kisses playing “Jingle Bells”? Or when Peter came home from college for Christmas, awakening his sleeping family with a hot pot of Folger’s coffee? Or any of the Budweiser ads that feature those gorgeous Clydesdales. Bud taught us all to declare, “I love ya, man, I really do.” And we felt okay saying it. Advertisers are savvy enough to try to encapsulate that certain “spirit” of
until their mom or dad came home, and counted on Santa making a return trip a week or two after December 25. He never failed to deliver. He didn’t deliver much way up there above the Arctic Circle where all the oil is, though. I used to feel sorry for Todd at work on Christmas morning when the corporate culture was, as it should be, to just keep the oil and gas pumping, separated, and flowing down the Trans-Alaska Pipeline. I love it that this fuels our nation with American-made energy sources,