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.

No matter where I might ever live, the South will always be my home
Goodbye, Sonny
Far-left political idiocy is ruining remake of Disney’s ‘Snow White’
Dear FBI, NSA and all three-letter agencies: ‘We don’t trust you guys’
Life cycles sometimes bring us back to places where we’ve been
Instinctive desire to ‘do something’ almost always leads to bad policy
Partisans defend every kind of evil when it’s done by their own allies