In my dream of Christmas Yet to Come, I see a loving mother and I see our children. I see us in a church service together on a Christmas Eve.
I see bright and curious faces experiencing the wonder of something transcendent. I see two parents who love each other and are eager for their children to feel the wonder of something bigger than themselves — to feel the joy and love and connection of Christmas with people who know there is some mysterious power bigger than themselves, something which binds a community of people together through some wisp of spirit inside each heart.
I grew up in churches where the brain was more important than the heart. Nobody would have said it that way, but what mattered was doctrine and rational explanations, not experience or any powerful sense of wonder. We were vaguely disdainful of people who felt too much or expressed too much from the heart.
We quietly extinguished the transcendent from the sacred in most respects — and I believe we lost something important as a result.

Getting better at all I do is only way to fight ‘imposter syndrome’
THE McELROY ZOO: Meet Bessie, the beautiful girl who’s still scared
Wall Street protester accidentally illustrates power of voluntary action
Social media creates shallow ties at expense of deeper connections
Before you can rescue other folks, you have to learn to save yourself
Tough problem: What does a free society do about unfit parents?
A broken heart is devastating, but closing yourself to love is worse
My father’s narcissistic control left me resentful of all authority
Dirty little secret: Politicians have incentive to whip up your fears