And the Christmas Tree Fell…3x
This past year our Christmas tree fell over 3 times. 3 TIMES! Each time it was dramatic - broken glass and ornaments; pine needles everywhere; yelling at our deaf dog (who caused the crash each time). Two of the three times, we just sat it back up, cleaned up the mess and did absolutely nothing to ensure this wouldn’t happen again.
It’s just so interesting to observe yourself as you look back over decisions made – both big and small. Many of the ornaments that broke were the most significant ones. Some, we could super glue back together and a faint crack is only noticeable to one who is looking for it. Some were shattered and there was absolutely no way to piece them back together.
Ornaments hold a significant place in our family. They mark out the summaries of our year - a tangible way to signify the different things we’ve experienced and the places we’ve been. This hasn’t always been a family tradition for us. But about 9 years ago, when Trinity Family (the church plant in Trinity Gardens in Mobile that Scott pastored) began, we wanted to give something small but significant to those who had committed so much of themselves to help lead and form our church. So, we started giving ornaments each Christmas season.
The process of ornament design transformed with each year and the thought given to each ornament became more intense and significant as the years went on and our relationships grew deeper.
At first, I just happened upon an ornament (at my favorite store) that reminded me of our vision at Trinity Family. It was a whitish clear, round ornament with a beautiful black design spilling over the top. The glass was thick and heavy and the clear, plain, round ornament was made beautiful by the black design trickling over top of it. The contrast of the black over the white signified that we were asking Jesus to produce something beautiful out of our mix of people, who were seemingly “contrasting”– just like the ornament.
All that’s left of that ornament is the small piece of metal at the very top of the glass ball. Just a few weeks ago, the actual ornament was shattered into a million pieces, swept up and thrown into the trash.
Many others had the same fate. Some of them were from an ornament kit that my grandmother gave us the year after we were married. Many were from our travels during Scott’s sabbatical year.
The turtle from Hawaii has no legs. The Grand Canyon pottery ornament has faint lines where it’s been glued back together. The Yellowstone buffalo is pieced together leaving a hole right in the middle. San Francisco is shattered. Many lost limbs on animals – all casualties to one of the three Christmas Tree falls of 2021.
Emma, our oldest daughter, and I were cleaning up yesterday – putting away Christmas decorations and taking down the tree. As I cut the string that had held the tree from falling once again, I began reflecting on how the tree falling mirrored life in so many ways for me (for us).
Falling, messes, brokenness, yelling, deaf ears, and getting back up (with less covering, but still back up). The last 3 years have been incredibly hard. In some ways I feel like the first Tfam ornament – shattered, swept up, and trashed with only a small piece that remains to signify it’s me. And in other ways I feel like one of the ones that made it through all the crashes – resilient, strong, breakable and broken, but repaired.
Each time the tree fell (and our tree was only about 6-7 feet tall), the amount of collateral damage was always annoying and surprising to me. Pine needles were everywhere, water from the tree stand was all over our wood floors, glass spread to even the far reaches of the room, and there was always a loud noise that sounded like something a lot more significant than a Christmas tree falling. Whatever else was in the way got crushed or dirtied.
And Tilly, our dog, was as shocked as ever each time it landed on her. She never heard it coming – literally.
Man! Do I feel the parallels?
Unsecured and insecure Significantly Insignificant Broken and now exposed
Loss and Lost Harmful and Stubborn Scar-bearing and weak
And yet…(thank you Jesus for the “and yet”)
Our ever-falling Christmas Tree still housed the gifts that were to be given to so many we love. It made it through 3 falls and was able to be put back up. Exposed branches gave way to brighter Christmas lights shining from the inside of the tree. It was beautiful, just different than what we initially expected. And though it took more times than it should have, as a family we adjusted to “the tree will fall” reality.
Resilient and Brave Lighter and Brighter Gift-bearing Creative with new perspective
The ornaments of our Christmas tradition, while beautiful, bear the marks of the most incredible moments of our lives. Some are whole. Some are just pieces. And some are simply fragments glued back together. As I think forward to 2022, I can’t help but think of something my best friend often says (in this “now and not yet life”), that:
“No one and nothing is just one thing”!
May your new year be filled with hope,
Katie
