Christmas Ornaments as Ebenezers*

One holiday tradition we established was buying ornaments after Christmas, wrapping them up for the next year’s tree.  Another was always having a fresh tree until the year I invested in an artificial tree . . . I didn’t think it looked so bad once the ornaments were in place; although this was not a universally accepted opinion. 

I don’t remember exactly which year we packed away all the decorative trappings and tree – but, we haven’t decorated a tree for many years, preferring to enjoy the ones our kids and others create – especially since in God’s providence, we travel at this time.  

Doug's Sister's Tree 2013

I now use some fresh greens, and a few holiday ornaments, recently collected to mark the season.

 

Our Mantel 2013

In her blog, a friend asked what do you love about your tree this year, after sharing pictures of baubles that anchored her heart to joyful memories of Christmas past. (Working Moms Weekly) Coincidentally, this was the year I inventoried some of our ornaments – well, three boxes of them, splitting them up between our kids and into a keep pile, and discard pile. So, her question made me think back to favorite trees . . . each we declared was the best ever . . . until the artificial one.

Decorating Christmas trees over more than 30 years, generates quite a collection of ornaments, not to mention more boxes of decorations, a few of which I inherited. Nearly all of the most favorite Christmas decorations and ornaments were the ones that our kids gave us, or made. So, I re-gifted most of them back.  The best ornaments, real and remembered, included:

·      a peanut shell, wrapped and decorated as baby Jesus, now long-gone, was our son’s kindergarten era gift to us;

·      a clothes pin swaddled in white and pink, a friend’s commemorative of our daughter’s first Christmas;

·      a crafty reindeer with a tiny tinsel swag, and

·      a little salt-dough lamb.

I just wish I could give with them the warm-fuzzies I felt each year unwrapping them.

We still are storing [too] many Christmas decorations in our daughter and son-n-law’s attic. But nothing compares to these treasures, and the memories they stir up.  I remember  the dearest children ever, family and friends who came to dinner, sometimes bringing gifts of ornaments and leaving memories of laughter and good conversations.I remember misunderstandings, frustrations, and failures that have disrupted friendships – stinging, when I unpacked these seasonal trinkets.   

From art classes, I have learned what is light and gay never looks so bright and appealing as it does against some dark edges. That’s not  a bad image for all the Christmas ornaments, real or just remembered,  glistening against the dark evergreen trees -- even artificial ones, or the ones I remember.

“The Christmas tree is a symbol of love, not money. There's a kind of glory to them when they're all lit up that exceeds anything all the money in the world could buy.” ― Andy Rooney, Andy Rooney: 60 Years of Wisdom and Wit

 

Christmas 2013

*Ebenezers – stones of mercy, guidance  and comfort, even the ones I tripped over. (1 Samuel 7:12) Please God forgive me for stumbling others on their journey.

A Family Wedding

Out of the hundred or so guests, I only knew a handful of folks. The bride is a great niece, literally and descriptively.  So, of course I knew my nephew and his wife and their youngest daughter. Our son and daughter-in-law and our daughter and her husband came; so did my brother and his wife. And I recognized a few faces from many, many years ago.

Melancholy and joy, happiness and regrets, wonder and gratitude – memories of other weddings and prayers for the future of marriages represented colored all the impressions I took in.  This day became an unexpected Ebenezer. (1 Samuel 7:12)

My niece,  (a more a possessive description than our relationship ever was), and her husband exchanged vows and celebrated their marriage at a comfortable old country club in northern Baltimore County.  And because Maryland’s spring is about three or four weeks behind Texas’ we beheld dogwoods, daffodils, and azaleas – nature’s delightful rewind of the most hopeful of seasons.

A shower had threatened earlier, but the sun dried up its remnants, and a rainbow emerged at the time friends were toasting the bride and groom – prompting guests to scurry outside and record the event on the innumerable smart phones and cameras. One younger guest asked his dad if they could go and hunt the gold. My nephew confided he had to get a second mortgage just for that display.

Candles may have been on the table, but the glow of our hand-held devices was truly what illuminated us!  The wedding photographer waited good-naturedly for us to look up so she take pictures of us. Never have I seen so many photographers – or have have I been so torn to put my camera down and look at the faces before me.

Serendipitously, a few days later, a You Tube video rebuked me:

 

Put your hands on your head – stand away from the phone

Stop watching . . . Live Life the Real Way!    

I am glad I did put my phone down – occasionally -- and enjoyed so many moments. But I am also glad for the pictures I took. Most I deleted – but the ones I kept remind me the Lord has been good to me.  For the brief moment this wedding was, I saw the top part of my life’s canvas, and, from what I often feel is a jumble of threads, I saw an outworking – a purpose -- that has been bigger than my will.

 God! I hope I remember that!

Genesis 9:13

Confession

 

I was taken in – the television commercial about the wonderfully light, transportable, retractable hose got me. This might be the answer to recurring wrestling match I have with the garden hoses, I thought! Tugging and hauling and then tripping over them is not as much fun as it used to be – especially since I learned a friend lost her round with her backyard hose and fell, breaking a hip and her wrist! So, I ordered two hoses and bought several for my kids and friends.  The hose seemed so sensible and inexpensive I simply had to share it – but those hoses had a design flaw – one that had been pointed out by other buyers on Amazon, but one I ignored. 

Instead of brass fittings, the lightweight hose had plastic connectors, unable to withstand the “pressures” of watering a few flow beds. Therefore, when watering the plants, I got watered, as water gushed from the connectors.  Then I pictured our kids and friends being similarly drenched – and winced. Some gift!

What I hoped would be helpful turned out to be a hassle. The amazing hose I thought could minimize the risk of falling, and make watering easier for others just showed me: don’t give cheap solutions to real problems – especially when a multitude of people before me, said This is doesn’t work!  But, so enamored was I with the hose’s possibilities, I ignored the warnings: save your money!

Wrestling again with my cumbersome old hose this morning, I wondered what the little lessons were in this little debacle. I saw three – clichés, maybe – but good goads, nonetheless:

1.     Some things that look so good may be too good to be true. 

2.     Learn from other people’s experiences instead of repeating them.  And,

3.     Gardening, including its choice of tools – like life -- may convey risks among its many rewards.* 

And maybe I see a subsequent lesson: beware of giving cheap gifts assuming they might solve other gardeners’ problems. 

*Rewards of gardening that others describe well:

·      Gardening is not a rational act. ~Margaret Atwood

·      Hope never dies within a true gardener’s heart. ~author unknown - 

·      You can bury a lot of troubles digging in the dirt. ~Author Unknown