On this Appalachian Sunday, the forever Blue Ridge mountains in their misty silence and dignity rise above our arguing heads, we need medicinal humility - to give each other mercy's grace. Our Asheville, NC is a city of artists, chefs, musicians, actors, and buskers that gift us their talents. Yet, on the outskirts, the tent city dwellers sleep in winter's cruel cold embrace, sharp strong winds cut like a blade. Our poor and working class, and some middle earners too, wake up hungry in the night. Can we abstain from calling each other names, and stop political bickering - have cheer, not judgment, feed our homeless neighbors and others who may live down the street or work alongside us. The food banks and church pantries hum with the love of volunteers and staff. You can have faith, the benevolent Lord loves the givers. Because we don't always realize one day it could be us, so there's no more, "Us and them," We can open up our hearts, on this Appalachian Sunday. ~