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.

Next, this city is going to be selling lemonade and holding bake sales
How would we see the gang war in Texas if the faces had been black?
When I die, what will I remember? Who won an election or who I loved?
A ‘faux father’ loves being adored, but a real father is there full-time
Freedom lovers, why do so many of you still blindly trust the GOP?
In an age when lies are expected, integrity matters more than ever
No matter who you are or what you’ve done, time is your enemy
Dying Phelps’ anti-gay cult is vile and wrong, but I don’t hate him
We’re happier if we learn to ‘sell’ ourselves to people who want us