Originally published Thursday, 28 November 2013.
I lay on my unmade bed, "I don't really want to decorate this house. I have the nativity up, isn't that enough?"
Decorations were strewn all over the bedroom and living room and I was strewn on the bed in desperate need of a mental and physical break.
Wasn't I the woman who had all her Christmas presents purchased before Thanksgiving for a few years in a row? Wasn't I the one who occasionally decorated for Christmas prior to leaving for Thanksgiving celebrations with family in Alabama? My how things had changed.
Then I recalled Emily's quip, "The tree looks beautiful mama!" This after I had only plugged the lights in! Then it came to me: I am no longer decorating for myself; I am decorating the house for the kids now.
I lay there a little while longer and let this reality set in. Even decorating the house for Christmas has taken on a selfless twist with the dawning of parenthood. Ashamedly, this was novel news to me. I always thought my mom decorated because she loved Christmas, but maybe it is always for the ones she loves?
After brainstorming what remained of the decorations, I began my quest to decorate the house in such a way that the kids and Ron would happily reflect upon in years to come. The new flannel Christmas sheets hit the mattress, the second nativity the dresser, garland and ornaments for the chandler, and the finishing ornaments on the tree.
Truly, Christmas was never about the presents nor the decorations it's always been about man's sinful heart which needed to be redeemed by the sinless Messiah.
The decorations in our home are an outward reminder and a marker to share the story of redemption. The story that all started when the Son forfeited Heaven to lay down in a bed of hay and start our journey Home.
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