EMBRACING OUR PERFECTLY IMPERFECT HOLIDAYS
We put up our tree.
Five minutes later, it came crashing down.
Yep, we went to the Christmas tree farm. Pushed Miles in his wheelchair through the dirt and dust. Took two separate cars so I could get Mason to a meeting straight after. Searched and sniffed for a good tree. Found her. Packed her up, and Tony and Miles carefully drove her home. Mason and I ran to his meeting.
Got home later to decorate the tree. Mason rolled his eyes that we had to decorate it that day because he wanted to play the new season of Fortnite that came out that same day. Seriously?
Truth be told, I would rather have decorated another day too. I was exhausted from all the running around and only had a small window of time before we had to leave again to get Mason to an event. But I pressed on so we could get that tree up. It was December, after all, and the Christmas season was in full swing everywhere we looked.
Unpacked the ornament boxes. Garland was looking old and beat up. I was ready to put it up anyway and get ‘er done, but Tony said it was really probably time to get some new garland. So, I raced to Target. The aisles were cleaned out. C’mon! On December 4th!? Found some garland in an area apparently, no one looked. Grabbed the last bits of it. Ran back home.
We played Christmas music and enjoyed looking at all the homemade and keepsake ornaments that the kids created over the years. Everyone took part, and we spent about an hour decorating that tree. It turned out beautiful if I do say so myself!
We were done. We did it. The kids went to play their stupid video games, and I went to clean up the ornament boxes before it was time to get ready to shuffle Mason off.
But just when I walked back into the living room as my husband was watering the tree, I saw it….No, no, no, no NOOOOOOOOOOO! She tipped, and there was no way to stop her. Queue the slow-motion falling tree, and then CRASH!
My favorite keepsake ornaments were shattered. Ones from our wedding year and ones the kids made for us lay broken on the ground—shards of glass everywhere.
The kids heard it and came running/rolling in, took one look at the tree on the ground, and started crying. Both of them, even my twelve-year-old! “All that work,” he said. I mean, secretly, I think they were crying because they didn’t want to stop gaming to redo the tree. They were still holding the controllers in their hands and kind of half crying and half looking back at the screen to continue playing.
This was one of those moments. You know the kind. When you want to throw your hands up and yell, “I QUIT!,” and then throw yourself on the ground, start crying right alongside the kids, and have a toddler tantrum. I really considered it.
But I didn’t. Man, trying to be mature really isn’t easy and it’s not as much fun. I would have preferred sitting on that floor and having my hissy fit. Instead, I went and comforted the kids. Hugs all around and some semblance of comforting words, “I know that was so disappointing after all of our hard work. It’s okay; we’ll redecorate it. You won’t even be able to tell.” I didn’t believe it, but I said it anyways. Sounded good.
After comforting the kids, I went into the garage where no one could see me, a million thoughts racing through my head. Are you kidding me? WHY IS EVERYTHING SOOOOOO HARRRRRRRRRRD!!!!!
I punched the air and swore a bit to myself. Okay, more than a bit. Then, I took a deep breath, grabbed the broom and dustpan, went back into the living room, hugged my husband, and said some smart-aleck comment to make him laugh, like, “I guess it’s time to get the plastic tree with the lights already on it, plug and play, and call it a day.” I told him we’d laugh about it one day. And then we swept up the mess and put all the salvageable ornaments back on the tree and redecorated it.
Now every time I look at the tree I either laugh or snarl or both. It’s just another good reminder of the imperfect nature of things. It’s a reminder that these ARE the holidays. Imperfect. Just like the night of Jesus’ birth. Inconvenient. Unflashy. Messy and imperfect.
The tree may fall. The holiday cookies might burn. The family photo shoot will have you swearing this is the last year you’re taking photos. Heck, those Christmas cards may not even get sent at all. The dog will eat the presents. Someone will be in a bad mood and spread the exact opposite of holiday cheer. The one must-have coveted gift on your kid’s list will be sold-out. Someone will get sick. Many of our kids even spend the holidays in the hospital. A flight will be delayed, the car will break down, and the holiday dinner will taste bad. These are the holidays.
As I was cleaning up those shards of glass, I thought about how God uses all of our imperfect pieces. It’s often EXACTLY what he uses. The messy, broken, tear-stained fragments of our lives. It’s often IN these shattered moments that our faith can be strengthened and when our character can be built.
And God uses perfectly imperfect people and imperfect situations. Mary and Joseph were imperfect humans who brought a savior to this world in a manger, an unfitting, ill-suited surrounding for a King.
God can use our broken pieces. He can help put us back together and rebuild our lives, often molding us into different versions of ourselves. Sometimes stronger. Sometimes kinder. Sometimes with deeper more-knowing perspectives.
I’m learning to embrace the imperfections and to accept the broken pieces and the unique mosaic of my life that they create.
As I walk past our tree, my eyes catch the way it now leans a little to one side. I’m sad as I notice the missing ornaments that once were. I see the bent branches that weathered the fall. But I also take note of how those branches still have the strength to hold new ornaments. I revel at how the tree stands back up. She’s still aglow spreading light through our home. And on Christmas, we’ll gather around that tree for one of the holiest days of the year.
It’s all a reminder that this is life. This is Christmas. This is Jesus’ birth. It’s the messiest, perfectly imperfect, most wonderful time of the year.
Merry Christmas!
