Territorial Lawn Ornaments

O come, O come Emmanuel...

It is so cold. This isn't a cold that simply raises the hairs on the back of your neck, no; this is the kind of cold that North Carolinians involuntarily engage in small talk over. It is a deep-down cold that makes you run to your car and scream made-up words at the top of your lungs as soon as the door is closed. You know the cold I mean.

Tonight our church had a members meeting and we sang a few Christmas carols. To be honest the presentation was kind of awkward. Two guys with guitars took turns singing while the other one played most of the right notes. No drums or fancy lights, just a couple music leaders and a room that I feel certain was full enough to make a fire marshall breakdance. Even still, despite my own cynical tendency to look for what's out of place I was surprised to find myself singing along and even getting emotional. Crucially, I should point out that we did not sing "Christmas Shoes."

Earlier I mentioned that I like to write because it reminds me that I have a soul. If my life is any example, it's an easy thing to forget. Someone else reading this may not even agree that there's any real soul there to lose. Maybe their argument would be that the difference is merely semantics -- what I call a soul they call a conscience and we should be content to discuss it over a meal of culturally diverse food and part ways without consensus. I like debate but I don't like questions without motive of an answer, even if the answer isn't entirely rooted in something we can measure, taste, feel, or otherwise observe with our limited senses.

Still, for those of us who sing those carols to the God that they were written for, we must confess our limited senses harken to their maker. He senses perfectly and we sense "the best we know how," and by that we get a micro-image of their grander origins. Moreover, to be made in the image of the maker means that we make things. Being creative isn't an option, it's in our hearts and whether we're creating cupcakes or buildings or relationships or paragraphs, we're all instinctively modeling that behavior in some way, every day.

Pretty much, that is just cool, and I'm so thankful for it.

O come, O come Emmanuel ...