Bread, and Always Christmas if Not Now Winter

We have a bread machine that works like Rumplestiltskin, turning basic ingredients into warm, golden bread with no more human involvement than is required to put things in and take things out.  We have a KitchenAid mixer that works nearly the same way, with a hook that kneads dough twice as effectively in half the time it takes me.  But today when I make bread, I want to make bread.

I take down the thick cookbook we never use.  I gather the huge white bowl, the wooden spoon, and the measuring cups.  I mix two tablespoons of yeast and half a cup of lukewarm water and while they are growing foamy, I heat three tablespoons of butter and a cup and a half of buttermilk in a pan until the butter dissolves.  The double-butter milk cools to lukewarm, and the house is quiet.  My family is gone, running errands, and I am the only one home, baking bread after a scholarship essay is polished and submitted.  Silence warmly invites me to sing, and to my surprise, the song that bubbles from my lips is not one that reflects the nearly-100-degree weather outside the window.  Instead...

Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice!  Rejoice! 

Emmanuel shall come to thee, oh Israel.

I mix flour and liquid with my hands, dough coating my arms almost to my elbows, and think on the words that came from me and came from nowhere.  One of my two favorite Christmas songs, yes...but in June?  The rhythmic kneading of the dough beneath my hands beats the tempo of the song, and I sing the lyrics again. 

Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel...

"Emmanuel," meaning "God who is with us." 

I grease the bowl - cheating this time, with a can of Pam oil spray - and the kneaded dough lands splot in the bottom, where it grows for an hour and ten minutes.  And I sing carols that are relevant year-round. 

Christmas marked the beginning of God's dwelling with us, and that time has not ended. 

And the Presence that arrived announced by angels and stars and shepherds and a scandalized couple gloriously invades my kitchen and my heart and my neighbors probably think I'm crazy for Rejoice!  Rejoice!  nearly shouted in the middle of June.