Our Christmas tree is totally bald from the back. It’s
tucked into a corner to hide this embarrassment. Don’t tell the girls, they
really haven’t noticed. We built our tree from pieces of three old trees…it
took 4 adults to figure out how to make it stand and look ok (I think I still owe my neighbor Caroline a
bag of chips for her help that day). The girls looked at it so much the days
right after we put it up. They admired the lights, and the ribbon, and loved to
sit around it in the dark. I just kept thinking how we actually spoke about
using duck tape to keep it in place and how it has no branches in the back, and
had to kick those thoughts out of my head to enjoy the ambiance.
We have been reading a part of the Christmas story every night
before bed. I wanted the girls to remember Jesus’ story, how incredibly
difficult it was, but how wonderfully it turned out for us. Last night we read about the shepherds who were greeted by
angels and informed of Jesus’ birth. Right away they went to find and worship
Jesus…they didn’t let their busy schedules or the long walk keep them from
witnessing history. In fact, after finding Jesus they had to tell everyone
about the angels, about His arrival, and their part in it. They were now part
of this amazing story.
Then I read the verse that blew my mind: “ but Mary kept all
these things in her heart and thought about them often” (Luke 2: 19).
Woah! Mary didn’t complain about giving birth in a stable;
instead she kept hope for what was to come. She didn’t worry about the savior’s
bloodline, which included the adulterer David; instead, she thought about the Angels
sang about her son. Mary wouldn’t have
realized our tree was bald from the back.
Not only was she part of the story, but she was an admirer,
a worshiper of Him. She kept it as treasure
in her heart. She knew that God was doing something great in her son’s lifeand
she couldn’t get it out of her mind. She would dream with Jesus. What would he
do? Who would he heal? How would he save?
I want to be like Mary. I want to do life with my girls and
their messy story, but I also want to dream with them. I want to admire what God
is doing in their lives, and not be able to stop thinking about the hope of
their futures. I don’t want to focus on the baldness of the Christmas tree, but
instead in the beauty that it has become.
No one imagined the King would be born in a manger. No one
can imagine what God can do with an orphan’s redemption story. He does more
than we can ever ask or think (Eph. 3:
20).
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