If you stand on the first three steps of the stairs leading down to the basement, the wood stove will affectionately wrap your feet in the byproducts of its inner combustion. Should you descend further, the icy, concrete slab floor will welcome your feet into its winter temperature. But all the wrappings are the ping-pong table, so you tighten your abs and think about that glossy crimson paper that makes you want to hum: “The Holly and the Ivy.”
“Well, some call Him Jesus, I think I’ll call Him Savior…” Josh Garrels croons from my computer as I secure a white ribbon around another package. My mom called my music sad. But my exuberance for the holidays has been stored away in the closet along with my paper dolls. I think my mind is in a cocoon. I think I’m changing, hopefully into something more beautiful.
The incarnation of stainless savior, enclosed in humility is an event deserving celebration, whether you’re feet are warm or cold. It costs us very little to commemorate a divine deed so great. Therefore, whether I am changing or merely down for a season, Merry Christmas! And may His face shine graciously upon you this New Year.