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Background music attribution: The O’Neill Brothers Group, The Holly & The Ivy from Joyous Christmas Carols on Piano
It was a year marked by significant changes for us . . . and an uncertain future.
Normal was a foreign concept.
But I was determined to keep things normal—especially when it came to Christmas.
I tackled the monstrous job of decorating our home with a less-than admirable attitude.
I bullishly wrestled bulging boxes. And launched the ladder to deck the roofline with lights (in absolute fear and stubborn pride). I wore myself out, all because I was concerned with outward appearances. Because homelife was already different enough for the kids, I didn’t want any added visible reminders.
But, as I assembled the tree, the stand failed to stand at all. I huffed . . . and I puffed . . . till I practically blew the house down trying to fix it.
I couldn’t afford to buy a new tree, and we certainly weren’t going to do without, so I tried to engineer a solution. And, because I felt everything else in life was miserably broken, a broken tree was entirely unacceptable!
I first tried to duct-tape the tree to a piece of plywood and then camouflage the rigging. Well, you guessed it, it toppled over a few days later.
“I’ll fix that!” I spewed.
Then I tied some rope around it and nailed it to the windowsill! It stayed up all season. When I went to take the tree down, the nail wouldn’t budge! I buried it so deep, it seemed lodged in the foundation of the house. So, I put it back up the same way again the year after that, and the year after that, reutilizing that unremovable nail.
The kids roared with laughter. I nervously, and painfully, chuckled along. (Now, of course, I find it quite hilarious!) It was a silly thing, but it really turned the tide for us.
When we moved out of that house years later, the nail remained. As I gave the home a final, reminiscent tour, I smiled at the memory of it. (I smile even now.) I have often wondered what the new homeowners thought of that curious nail (because I doubt it ever came out!).
Decorating our home that year was ultra-important—but for the wrong reasons. I erred in believing that the very success of our Christmas depended on how it all looked. But, by God’s healing grace, He is teaching me a different set of values and priorities.
Decorating for Christmas is a non-essential. Preparing our home, however, is not.
Here are a few personal thoughts on how to prepare a home for Christmas:
Pray over, in, and through each room—about the activities, conversations, and people who will occupy the space.
Leave out an open Bible (and share with others what you find there).
Make Jesus evident among you by giving Him thanks and praise whenever you see His hand at work.
Set the tone of your home by speaking words of kindness and respect.
Fill your home with the spirit of Jesus. Be patient, merciful, and humbly serve others in love. And be forgiving of others (and yourself) when you blow it.
Try to minimize unnecessary clutter (if only for your own mental health).
Finally, adorn the atmosphere with love and laughter.
Preparing our home has become far less dramatic . . . and traumatic. I don’t attempt to string up lights across the rooftop anymore. I have realized that’s not how you prepare your home for Christmas. And I’m quite ok with keeping the store-bought garnishments to a minimum.
Let’s not fall into the trap of going Griswold overboard. Simply prepare room for Jesus.