At this time of year I get a lot of catalogs to order Christmas presents. Sometimes I order but often times the catalogs are cut up or placed in File 13.

This year I saw a necklace that got me thinking. The message on it was "All who wander are not lost..." It made me think of a particular Christmas song.

I Wonder as I Wander

I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

When Mary birthed Jesus 'twas in a cow's stall
With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all
But high from God's heaven, a star's light did fall
And the promise of ages it then did recall.

If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing
A star in the sky or a bird on the wing
Or all of God's Angels in heaven to sing
He surely could have it, 'cause he was the King

I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

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I've spent an awful lot of time in my life asking questions about one thing or another. I used to wonder why a blue bird couldn't mate with a red bird and give birth to a purple bird. I mean, a horse can mate with a donkey and you get a mule; a cocker spaniel can mate with a poodle and you get a cockapoo; and every breed of cat you can imagine can mate to create other breeds of cat. So why not birds?

I've also wondered who decided that a day was 365 days, or how we came to have 12 months, or why a day is 24 hours long. Was time always measured this way? If so, then how or why did people live past 100 years old in the Old Testament?

I wonder about a thousand different things every day. Some of them are mundane and others are pretty significant. But lately I've been trying to do what Rainier Rimke suggested: "Live the question." I told that to some AA members on Sunday night and one asked me if I even remembered what the question was. You know the funny thing is that I really don't. I used to ask myself "Why am I here?" and then that question finally went away when I was told that I was born for these times. Then I wondered what my grand purpose was. But these days I find it doesn't really matter.

The main thing is that I am alive. I'm supposed to be here. The odds of my being were stacked against me. (I could explain that statement but I won't.)It doesn't really matter why I'm here. The main thing is that I am. That is enough.

I'll remember that when I get down on myself and wish I were someone else. That was something I did a lot. Now and then I still do it but not as much as I used to.