The preview to this week's episode of The West Wing
proposes that the president-elect, in order to
replace his deceased running mate, invites the defeated
presidental candidate to accept the job of vice-president.

I have been known to spout this opinion--that the most votes
elects the prez and the runner-up fills the v-p seat and the two work it out from there. I just like it better when everyone who is running wins something.

But this idea is certainly not original to me. It was actually the way the US election worked in its infancy.
According to Wikipedia:

Under the original terms of the Constitution, the members of the U.S. Electoral College voted only for office of President rather than for both President and Vice President. The person receiving the greatest number of votes (provided that such a number was a majority of electors) would be President, while the individual who was in second place became Vice President. If no one received a majority of votes, then the U.S. House of Representatives would choose between the four highest vote-getters, with each state getting one vote. In such a case, the person who received the highest number of votes but was not chosen President would become Vice President. If there was ever a tie for second, then the U.S. Senate would choose the Vice President.

Then along came political parties...

I made up my mind a few years ago that whenever asked to give,
I would challenge myself to to do so without reservation.

Outside a burrito cafe on Sunday morning, I saw a woman, sitting alone nearby with a plastic cup, watching me as my family held hands, prayed, shared our meal.

Then she interrupted.
The story was loopy: ex-boyfriend in jail and this talkative
hungry woman just a bus ticket away from little kids left too long with a sitter in another state and so on. Part of me tried to understand how any of this incredulous story could be honestly fixed while another part was tabulating how much cash I would hand out.

We asked her name (namesake of a famous actor!) and tried to understand her sad condition. Why would authorities not help her? For what good reason had nearby churches turned her down?

Adding 2+2, I realized that she must be a fool for telling such a contrived story and I was foolish to give her anything.

God, I hope I was the bigger fool.
That what attracted her to me as the soft touch and easy mark was a bowed head. That we both know that while the money might temporarily ease the pain, it will never cure the ailment. That a glimpse of the power of God can be planted in the bitter and the stingy.

I pray it's germinating a desire for reconciliation right now on that seedy street corner as well as in this cushy suburb.

The West Wing is in its final episodes.
With the luxury of so much to cover with so little time left, the script writers are doling out plots for a plethora of actors.

I'm sorry to see it end because:

there's no numbskull laugh track.

it's the only television series my husband and I like to watch together.

President Bartlett reminds me of a shorter, heavier version of my uncle Jack. And Jack's brother worked for the Dept. of Ag in DC, so I've secretly felt a little entitled to the inner workings of Washington.

I understand about half of what's going on, so this show gives me hope I'll get smarter.

anything I missed--whether I was watching or not--is detailed at
Television without Pity.

Frequently asked question after our daughter's wedding:
How did you not cry?

Answer: Focus on now and what will be.
Memory Lane leads right out to the Waterworks.

In Summerland,
author Eyvind Skeie imagines how a little girl meets Jesus after her sled slides off a snowy cliff, causing her death.

Emerging from the shadow of sudden sadness is the image of Jesus as
The One Who is Waiting, The One Who Comforts.

One of Skeie's more provocative ideas is that in heaven, we only remember forward.
In heaven, sadness is impossible.
It's a good way to be happy here too.

Think about the last time you cried, what was it you were remembering?

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith...