"I love our tree." I said, and he nodded.
"It's the best tree yet." I think I've said that same line each and every year. To be honest, I've meant it each time too because each year we add a new story to our tree.
I love the way I can pick any ornament on it, and know the story behind it.
"That's Alora's hand when she was in kindergarten, she made a Santa face on her hand print."
"That's Kalina's feet and hands, turned into an angel."
"There's the angel my mother made us. Did you know, she's made each family member one of those?"
"Oh my, there's the star cookies the girls made 3 years ago. I don't think they're edible any more."
"There's the melted snow man ornament we made when we manned the table at the Breakfast with Santa at North Ridge Church last year."
I can go on. But, it would take a while to get through all the stories on that tree. The point I want to make here is... this tree is a story tree. My family's story tree. It's not made with bulk plastic ornaments made in China. It's real. Not a fake plastic tree with a pretty mask. It has a history, my family's history, and that's a beautiful thing.
As we wind down to the last days of this Christmas Season, we should reflect upon a story that we all share as family members under Christ. It's not a fake plastic story with a pretty mask. It's real, it's our family's history, and that's a beautiful thing.
The implications of the name Immanuel(God with us) are comforting...
Comforting, because He has come to share the danger
as well as the drudgery of our everyday lives.
He desires to weep with us
and to wipe away our tears.
And what seems most bizarre,
Jesus Christ, longs to share in and to be the source
of the laughter and the joy we all too rarely know.