A Mess of Ornaments...A Message of Hope

My husband doesn't like our Christmas tree. Well, I guess he just doesn't understand it. While there are a few sets of ornaments, none of them match. There are no brightly colored balls. No pretty ribbon. No theme. Just random ornaments collected from years past. I have friends who decorate multiple trees throughout their home. I don't care for artificial trees, and I can barely remember to water our one live tree, so I think I'll just stick to one. I have friends who change the theme of their trees from year to year. But that's an added expense I've never been able to justify. My ornaments have been the same, year after year. New ornaments are added each year, but not because I bought them. These are special ornaments given by friends. And each one has meaning. Each one has a story. Each one has a memory. And for me, that's what makes my Christmas tree so very special.

 Decorating the tree each year is like taking a walk down memory lane. I spend a few moments with each ornament, remembering who gave it, remembering that time in my life, remembering it's story. I often think of people I haven't spoken with or seen in ages. I cherish the time in our lives that we shared together. I am thankful for those moments, for those memories.

 There's the piano ornament, given to me by my piano teacher, Mrs. Rosalyn Taylor, in 1987.

There's an ornament given to me at work in 2008. The house. There is a matching house that belongs to my sister. This was my ornament in 1981 from my mom and dad. They still buy my sister and I a new ornament each year. They go on the tree at their home. But my mom let me take a few of mine. This is one of them. It's comforting to know this ornament's match is also being treasured on a special tree.

 The Joy to the World ornament from Julie. This was given in a year where we had to learn 3 or 4 different arrangements of Joy to the World for choir and praise team music at church. It was a challenge to keep them all straight.

The ornament I made Jay in 2011, the first Christmas together when we started dating.

The ornament that was the favor at my sister's wedding. My mom and I made so many of these!!!! Such happy memories.

 The Camp Crestridge Ornament... from the place I spent so many summers as a child and teenager. The ornament itself doesn't hold special memories, but the place it represents holds more memories than I can wrap my brain around.

 The cow ornament...well, one of many cow ornaments. From 1994-199 I was obsessed with cows. I loved them. I thought they were adorable. I still think they're pretty adorable. Some may think it's odd that I still hang the cow ornaments. But each year it just reminds me that I have friends and family who know me so well that they know exactly what ornament to give. That's pretty special in life...to have those kind of friends. So the cows stay!

 And there are so many more. The ornaments from Mexico I bought on a cruise. Ornaments from my former students. Ornaments I bought the first Christmas I spent in Spartanburg. Ornaments from friends. The set of three ornaments given to me in 1979 from my babysitter, Mrs. Haynes. If you haven't figured out...I keep track of where each ornament came from. The name of the giver and the year it was given is written either on the ornament or on the box. I figure one day I won't be able to remember each ornament's story. I'm preparing a cheat sheet of sorts for myself.

Like I said, they don't match. They don't make a jaw-droppingly, beautiful tree. It would never win a contest. To some, it may look a mess. But that's okay. It's my mess. They tell my story. And they are a reflection of life and a reflection of the true meaning of Christmas. When Jesus was born, it wasn't in a spick and span hospital all decorated with beautiful ribbons and bows. It was in a dirty stable. His birth took place after a long journey. An uncomfortable journey. There was pain. But, oh, there was joy! I wonder if Mary was worried about the messy stable as she was experiencing the pains of labor. Or was she just happy to have a place of privacy in that moment? If she was worried, I the worries faded away when Jesus arrived and she held him in her arms. The world He was born into was a mess, as well. God's people had confused His message. They had waited so long for the promised Messiah, they may have even forgotten what they were waiting for.

 Jesus came into a messy world, in a messy way, and He takes our mess and makes it His message. It might not look like what we imagined. It might be completely different from anything else we've seen. But to God, it's beautiful. It's unique. It's His creation. His handiwork. And His message is one of hope. Hope for a lost world. Hope for salvation and eternal life. Hope in knowing that He is in control. Ecclesiastes 3:11a says, "He makes all things beautiful in His time." My life is beautiful, not because of anything I do, but because of Jesus' handiwork with my mess. And while my tree might not be beautiful to everyone, it's beautiful to me. It's the story of my mess. And more importantly, the story of His message.