Visible Reminders

As I sit here looking at our Christmas tree, I see ornaments that remind me of so many different folks over

the years because they were all gifts. As Jeff and I decorated our very first tree--really the top branch of an old artificial tree--we realized that all our ornaments were gifts. We decided to keep our tree that way. The only ornament we would ever buy for ourselves would be the star for the top. It took us fifteen or sixteen years to find the right one. That star is in a less accessible storage box, so last year Max and I chose a new one.

So many of our gift ornaments are also in storage. There are too many anyway for one tree. I see the delicate china angel from Valerie. She is near the top. I see the little china bells given to me by my grandparents when I was younger than nine. There is another angel, only this one is made of plastic. She is also very old. There's the little cherub angel swinging on a snowflake--a gift from our neighbors at our first parsonage. A few are from our sons' first Christmases.  There are snowmen, and crosses, stars, Santas, toys, trees, bells, and more. The musical instruments given to us by my mother over the years have become a koala band this year.

Each of these ornaments is a memory, and together they envelop me in a rich blanket woven of the people who gave them to us. Some who gave them have joined the heavenly choirs. Some have passed out of our lives. Some are newly in our lives. All of them are a part of the fabric that makes this a deep and often bittersweet time of year. And so I give thanks.

Lamentations 3:21-22

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end.