Foolish Love

Last night, a bunch of us church people went caroling to spread Christmas cheer and the love of Jesus. It's funny how things never play out the way you think they should. We all made candle holders, made by poking a candle through a hole in a paper plate and through the bottom of a plastic cup, for shielding. Our first stop was our pastor's house. We walked up his family's driveway singing "Jingle Bells" in the chilling darkness with lit candles in hand. We reached their house as they were filing out. We sounded like cows in labor, but they smiled and nodded. Finally, we finished the howling and they clapped. Then, the pastor's sweet wife, Susie, said "Hey Ryan, your cup is on fire!" Yes, it was quite magical.

Our next stop, was the Lee's house, another family from our church. We walked up, rang the doorbell, and sang "The First Noel." No one answered the door, but their house cat sauntered up and stared out the window at us while we sang. We just kept singing for the cat, and it seemed like it meant something. But defeat finally settled in, so we got back into our cars and drove back to our home base to spread Christmas cheer throughout the neighborhood. Just for reference, one of the guys in our group had printed off very obscure versions of classic Christmas songs. We rang another doorbell and sang the first two verses of "Joy To The World" to another closed door. Finally, the door opened as we sang a weird third verse with the line "Far as the curse is found!" repeated over and over. I think they thought we were cursing them or something. I felt like a crazy Christian from a world beyond explanation. But they still thanked us and wished us a "Merry Christmas" despite our tuneful curses. We pressed on and sang to a couple more closed doors. We hounded yet another house, and a couple children stared wide-eyed through the window at us, then they scurried away. In the dark, we probably looked like scary Druids with candles held to our faces. Their dad finally came out and I thought we were in trouble. He looked confused at first, then a big smile broke across his face. We finished and he was very grateful. Almost too grateful.

The cold was getting to us, but we kept going. We decided to practice "Feliz Navidad" before blessing someone else. We got it just right, pronunciation and all. Then, we approached a quiet, white house and did our thing--ring doorbell, sing. Light and shadows fluxed somewhere inside the house, and soon, an elderly woman gingerly opened the door. She beamed and stepped outside and let the Christmas cheer wash over her. We sang and sang, and she bounced a little, smiling and giggling. We got to the end of the song, but I just kept singing. I didn't want it to end. I felt like our whole clumsy mission was worth it, if only for her.

I realized that love causes us to do all kinds of foolish things. There's nothing rational about trying to spread the love of Jesus by ambushing people with crazy Christmas carols. But somehow hearts are touched by something we don't understand. There's nothing logical about God dying for us in order to save us. But somehow, it worked. Somehow, love did the impossible. When we're in love, we say and do things that are foolish to everyone else. And yet it makes perfect sense to the hearts involved. In the past, I've written songs for girls that I now realize weren't very good from an artistic standpoint. But I didn't care about that at the time. My heart just needed a voice and so I went with it. What can I say? I am a fool for love, a lovesick soul, and I know of no other way to love rightly. Love always dares us to sing like an idiot.