Sometimes the metaphorical becomes literal: It rained for days. Then there was a ray of sun. Then it rained harder than ever, but everyone agreed it would stop again soon. A lot of nice people lent their umbrellas.
Okay, that last part is still just metaphorical. I don’t need to borrow an umbrella because I have a couple I probably stole. I don’t want to know what the metaphorical implications of umbrella theft are.
I like that Jesus was born in the dead of winter, and if it’s a story that evolved from pagan solstice traditions, that makes me like it even more. Every culture needs a birth-as-rebirth story. We got a card from our friends Una and Henry that said, “The Word became flesh and lived among us.” I tend to be a little wary of religious cards—as I mentioned, I find even Santa slightly suspicious—but it hit me what a lovely sentence that is. The “lived among us” part is my favorite. I like the idea that an idea could be so powerful it could come hang out with us. It seems very democratic. Like, “Hey guys, what’s on TV?” And we’re all, “OMG, you’re the Word!” And the Word is all, “Yeah, but so are you.” We turn to each other and agree: “Celebrities—they’re just like us.”
I’ve got some gift-wrapping and weather-surviving and family-navigating and chocolate-avoiding ahead of me (well, probably not very much chocolate-avoiding), so if I don’t manage to blog in the next few days, happy holidays, blog peeps.