Christmas Tree

This was originally written for Trinity's newsletter.

Yesterday (Monday before Christmas Eve) we got our Christmas tree. Andrea and I drove up to Apple Hill and tromped through a muddy tree farm. It was a rainy day. We pushed through wet branches and found the right tree. We cut it down and hauled it to the car. We stopped at a winery for a tasting and bought a case of wine to have for Christmas parties. (It was our first time visiting a winery in the foothills.) We got home just in time to get the kids from school. We had to drive them around to their various activities, help with homework, etc. After attending an elementary school band concert, we hauled the boxes of decorations down from the attic. We put on Christmas music, lit a fire, made cider and got to work. Of course each of these items, mentioned in passing, took more time than expected. We had to find the Christmas music. It was our first fire of the season so we had to find all the necessary equipment and split some wood. The cider, well that was pretty straightforward.

The tree, however, was not. The tree that looked so perfect in the pine forest, was too tall for our living room. And it was very fat. And it had odd bulges. Of course I didn’t measure the height of the tree until after I brought it into the house and tried to set it up. Then I had to cut the tree down to size (in the house) and as a family we muscled it into its stand. I got to work trimming the bulges and thinning it so it would fit in the room. I was tired and grumpy as I lay on the floor adjusting the stand so the tree would stand straight(ish). By the time the lights were strung, it was well past bedtime. But the tree was up, music was playing, the fire was lit and hot cider was consumed and one of the Baker family traditions (including the grumpy dad) was observed one more year.

The day of tree getting and decorating has always been for me a symbol of Christmas and of my life. It is a great deal of work. There is much to be done. And it would be easy to see this day as a chore rather than a blessing. It would be easy to be distracted by the business of it all and miss the joy.

Of course the whole point of Christmas is to show us that all of life is a blessing. God is with us constantly. And at least this year I’m blessed with a glimpse of that presence in my family, in my church and in my too-big, oddly shaped Christmas tree.