As I bent down this evening, to place the Christmas tree skirt around the finally-bought-and-decorated-tree and then tie the opening of the skirt together in three bows, I heard the thought while still on my knees:
“Do it when it hurts.”
I’ve found that GOD thoughts float by and sometimes I grab onto them and other times, unfortunately, I let them pass by.
As I tied the last strands of the skirt together and straightened it to the best of my ability before getting up off my knees, the tears had started to sting my eyes. Because only The LORD knew that I didn’t want to put a tree up last year, and it was only at the encouragement of a longtime friend at this Thanksgiving, that I was putting up the Christmas tree this year.
Let me start at the beginning, because, well, it’s a really good place to start:
I did not put up a Christmas tree last year.
The last couple years seem to be categorized more by loss and sadness than I’d care to admit. The biggest loss was the passing of my dad. My mother died in 1989 and I missed her dearly; but the reality of my parents being gone as a unit has been on my mind much. Last year at Thanksgiving and Christmas we traveled; but no matter where I went, the reality that mom and dad were no longer here to celebrate holidays together as a family unit was fresh on my mind and my heart was tender. My mother always made every holiday special. Thanksgiving was always celebrated with her family and Christmas – oh my, she knew how to do it right. I have a rich treasury of memories of my parents and family at holidays. I know that I am a blessed woman to have had parents that loved and cared for me.
So, last year, I didn’t put up a tree.
Why didn’t I? I rationalized that we were going to be in New York City for the Christmas holiday and why should I put up a tree when we weren’t even going to be here? I had planned to host a bridal shower for my best friend at our home in December, and she and her love went off on a trip of their own. So, no holiday events were to be hosted here, and on top of that, we weren’t even going to be home. I thought it made perfect sense. Anyone agree? I’m not the only one, am I?
But what I didn’t realize that I was letting my grief win. My joy was stolen by an unseen thief in a not-so-jolly-red-suit.
I mean, for as long as I can remember, I’d celebrated Christmas with a tree in my home. Some of my favorite family memories were from the holidays. And then the people who I’d known and loved all of my life, the ones who had given me life and loved me like no other, were gone. And I didn’t feel like putting up a tree to commemorate a holiday that wouldn’t be celebrated by, or with, my parents. I mean, what does a holiday look like without family?
To me, it looked like a home without a tree.
I hurt too much to want to be joyful or “happy and bright”, right? Anyone agree? I’m not the only one again, am I?
So, I didn’t put up a tree last year.
And my reasoning seemed so rational, until Victoria Leigh came home from college for Christmas break and walked through our home and asked where the Christmas tree was! My logic didn’t sound so logical to Victoria. Well, she went to Goodwill and bought an eight dollar, white, vintage Christmas tree. It was pre-lit with multi-colored bulbs that we cut off the tree. It was not the jolliest of experiences cutting each individual light off those white branches. In fact, it was a tedious and time consuming activity and we made the biggest of messes! We can look back and laugh about it now though.
When we finished our labor, Victoria placed the tree in the dining room against the bronze walls and we decorated it, and I thought it was the most beautiful tree ever!
Seriously.
It was beautiful!
And it reminded me of the gift of life, the gift of a child, the gift of a friend, the gift of family, the gift of going on when life hurts.
I purchased a new white tree on Monday, The Salesman brought it in, and I made a royal mess getting it set up. Then there was the deciding where it should go… I had a Hansel and Gretel type trail of white pine needles in several pathways between three spots in the living room and one in the dining room. A tradition that was fun for many years, had become a ritual that I did not want to do.
And last year I didn’t.
I did not put up a Christmas tree last year.
So, while kneeling, I hear the:
“Do it when it hurts” phrase and I think why is it so necessary to sacrifice in times of hurt? Why must I rise above the current stresses and pain, heartache and loss and make an offering of praise? Why? Why did the very simple tradition of a decorating a tree seem to be a sacrifice for me to do to The LORD? Why is life not unicorns, daisies and Skittles? And pointy toe shoes? And scarves? Reality is hurt and heartache and loss.
But that is where the sacrifice of praise comes in at a great cost,
There in the trenches of heartache and loss:
I must praise,
All of my days…
I must praise!
YOU, are the soo much more GOD,
And with reason, and purpose and destiny, I have been shod.
YOU, are the giver and taker of life.
YOU JESUS, know heartache, loss, and strife.
YOU laid down your life.
YOU laid down your life.
YOU were born to die,
And I have dwelt in my sorrow and continue to pout and cry…
YOU were born to die.
I have wanted to curl up, and from Christmas, take a rest,
YOU say continue on, do your best!
I can rest,
Or do what is best.
Don’t let it come down to the end,
And be found unwilling to bend.
When GOD gives us a hurt,
We can find beauty in what is lost and burnt.
Take it all LORD.
Be true to YOUR Word.
Help me to do life and praise, even when it hurts.
And thank YOU for lessons from tying a Christmas tree skirt.
Written December 6, 2017
And I have one picture that I took of the tree and I notice the tree skirt is perfectly clear and it is very blurry of the tree!
KellyRBaker says
I'm sorry your parents passed. My mom is in a similar situation. She didn't want to decorate this year. But your tree looks beautiful, even though the picture is blurry.
Lora says
Thank you, Kelly. I understand that your mom didn't want to decorate this year, I really do. I hope that she will though. Bless you!