The scene sits on the table by the door so that when you walk into our home during the holidays it’s the first thing that you see.
I place His story there for a reason.
I love to decorate for Christmas. I enjoy seeing the ornaments hanging on the tree, telling their story of our family and the Christmas’s past. The twinkling lights bring about a feeling of nostalgia and light the way to remembrance. Home movies play in my head…
She loved Christmas, my mother… And this season, this year, more than any other, I let the sadness that’s floating around me take focus off what’s important.
As I pulled down the boxes carrying memories, all tied up like a pretty package, my son walked over.
“Mom, can I set up the shelf this year?”
“You still want this task?” I questioned. It won’t be long before he will pass me in height and some things he already feels too old to do anymore, especially with mom…
“I want to set it up myself.”
So I left him there to work. He sat for a long time moving the pieces back and forth until they were placed just so, and he was satisfied. And when he called me over I saw this:
Can you see it, friend? The perfectionist in me wasn’t too happy with the unbalanced placement but then I took a step back and really looked at what he had done.
They are all looking at Jesus, even the lowliest animal is pointing towards Him.
And I sank to my knees in realization that I had wrapped myself so tightly in a cloak of sadness and self pity that I was forgetting Who we actually celebrate. It’s not about family, or friends, or even the beloved memory of a mother…
Everything points back to Him…
“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. John 1:14,16
Yes, grace upon grace, doesn’t that make the season so much sweeter?
(Ladies, I realize this is not the best picture of us but it’s the only one I had!)
