It’s January 5, 2018. We have just experienced a bomb cyclone — not only new terminology but also yet another new moniker for climate change. It is January 5, 2018 and our president is lost in his illusionary shouting about having nothing to wear as he gets lost in his wardrobe closet of fun mirrors. If he had a GPS he could find his way out but he believes that the GPS is the “ big button.” It’s January 5, 2018 and there are more than 500,000 people in the USA who are homeless. It is -2 degrees outside my door. This afternoon I’ll make hot chocolate with organic chocolate and milk from Guernsey cows I’ve seen grazing. This is in line with a NYT article I read this morning written by Patricia Mazzei: “The Iguanas Falling From The Trees in Florida. They Probably Aren’t Dead.” It’s Friday, January 5th and I need to tidy up my sermon for Sunday. The Wise Men need to find a new way home from Bethlehem to avoid horrid Herod. Sometimes we all need find a new way home. It’s January 5, 2018. Five days into the New Year and all of the above is true: snow cyclones, the president and his new cloths, the looming threat of war, elite hot chocolate, the ever-growing tsunami of homeless people, Iguanas falling from trees and three wise men (three refugees) wondering if they’ll ever see home again. It’s January 5, 2018 and depending on your perspective we are all either hopelessly lost or we are all on the road together. It’s January 5, 2018 and today I choose the latter.