Our Christmas Tree
I pray this finds you relishing the joys — the simple, whispered joys of Advent. It’s often hard this time of year to quiet our souls in the midst of myriad distractions…
This year, I feel thankful to focus on Christmas and share time with my sweet parents, but especially with my precious mama as she recovers from major hip surgery this past week. I feel so blessed to serve as her devoted nurse and just savor simple time together. It’s my turn to do for her, to wait on her, to stroke her brow, to encourage her, to not let her lift a finger…and to watch God do His healing work!
Due to a different, simplified focus this year, the house is sweetly decorated, but we have no “Christmas tree.” Mostly, this was to prevent mama from having to work any harder than she normally does, and the house still sparkles just ’cause she’s in it.
However, in the absence of a “tree” this year, I was reminded of the first Wendell Berry poem I ever read.
Our Christmas tree is
not electrified, is not
covered with little lights
calling attention to themselves
(we have had enough of little
lights calling attention
to themselves). Our tree
is a cedar cut here, one
of the fragrances of our place,
hung with painted cones
and paper stars folded
long ago to praise our tree,
Christ come into the world.
Thanks be to God for His everlasting light and love and life – Jesus Christ – the greatest Christmas gift of all time – the only tree we ever need.