Our Christmas Tree

I don’t like hanging ornaments on the Christmas tree.

When Kelly and I were first married, Christmas was sweet and romantic. We had new ornaments and a new tree; we even got an “Our First Christmas - 1980” ornament. Our beautiful kids came along, and it became an even more moving family event. For several of those years, I enjoyed watching them decorate the tree more than I did helping them. My job was to get the tree in its stand and put the lights on, “You can never have too many lights.” Their job was to hang the ornaments and tinsel. I loved every moment.

As the kids grew, some of the wonder faded, not a lot, just a little. Our lives became busy. There were some hard lessons to be learned and some awesome traditions to be established. But, regardless of how the year had gone, Christmas was our time to be together. We tried our best to make those holidays memorable. The tree became the centerpiece for those feelings, its warm glow filling the house with the spiritual aroma of the season. We all knew it wasn’t about the tree and the presents. But the tree became a symbol of God’s love for us and our love for each other. These were sweet years for us as a family.

Well, the kids became wizened and seasoned and eventually went away to lead their own lives. The times changed, and so did our Christmas tree. Without really noticing it, Kelly and I ceased to hang ornaments and began to adorn our tree with…memories. Oh, some of the decorations we bought as a couple were and remain fond memories of places we’ve been and things we’ve done, a compelling collection of travelogs, major events, and pastimes. They’re fun and evoke warm feelings of special times as a couple. But the kids’ ornaments, many of them as old as the kids themselves, some of them hand-made by them, most of them mile markers along the side of the road to their adulthood…they are the hard ones. They take me back to another time, one of innocence, a time that passed some time ago, lost to their struggle of becoming adults and living their own lives. With Christmas music playing softly in the background, as Kelly and I dig those priceless and precious reminders out of their boxes, find a hook, and hang them in a prominent place on our tree, it’s a moment filled with melancholy. It always brings me to tears.

Now we find the times have changed again. These days, when the tree is finally finished, I like to sit and take it in. While some of the memories can be tough, they are far outweighed by the warm and cherished ones. The tree has become more than just a collection of holiday ornaments. It’s a record, a tinsel-bedecked history of our marriage and our love for each other, a reminder of what God has ushered us through and how much we have been and are being blessed. And, while there are moments of our past I long for, I am also reminded of all the things we are grateful for and how beautiful our time is now.

I don’t like hanging ornaments on the Christmas tree…but I love it for its reminders of what was. I hold tightly to that rich and beautiful history as a deposit on the promise of what will be.  

Merry Christmas. Our prayer for each of you is that you are blessed as richly as we are.