It’s that time of year again and I’m struggling with how to handle a bad decision.
It was time for a new Christmas tree, so I ordered what looked like a great deal (50% off) for a pre-lit 8-foot tree. The ceilings are 10 feet high, so that should be just perfect. My prime membership would get it to me in just a few days and I even paid an extra $15 for inside delivery … after all, it was 100 pounds.
We wrestled with the 4-part evergreen lookalike for the better part of an hour just to get it assembled. And then I had to “fluff” it. Not sure how they named it fluffing, but I found a video online to make sure I knew what I was doing.
The farther along we got, the more uneasy I felt, it’s … ummmm … well, really BIG. It never really occurred to me that taller would automatically mean wider (I guess unless you are buying a skinny tree). This house was built before the advent of huge living rooms and cathedral ceilings. We moved the loveseat over to make more room, but no kidding, this tree takes up about one sixth of our already modest living room in our 100-year-old craftsman house.
I kept looking for something good in my decision, but there really wasn’t any way I could call this anything but a big fat mistake, (pun fully intended). It has taken the joy out of decorating the tree and, I admit it, I’m only 1/3 of the way done with trimming this monstrosity.
I have reluctantly come to the realization that it is going to be a crowded Christmas … I’m not even sure how we will fit our normal 20 people around the 6 foot folding table tacked onto the end of the 12 foot table that dominates our cramped dining room. What was I thinking?
Do you ever feel that way? You make a decision and when all is said and done it seems like everything is crashing down around you and you ask yourself, how in the world did we end up here?
I wonder if Joseph felt that way as he traipsed across the desert with his young bride about to give birth. It’s not like he really had a choice, but perhaps his timing wasn’t as planned out as it could have been.
Arriving in the town of Bethlehem he discovered quickly that there was no place for them to stay. “My wife is about to have a baby and the crowded streets of town will prove disastrous for the birth of the Son of God! How did I end up here?”
I’m pretty sure that’s how Joseph ended up in a cave with a bunch of livestock. The storybooks and movies all allude to an innkeeper finding a quiet place for Mary to find seclusion, but the text doesn’t actually say that.
Maybe Joseph was guiding Mary and the donkey, which also is not mentioned in the text, to the outskirts of town when he happened upon the stable. I’m quite sure the night was not as silent as the song states. He rushes to gather some hay and blankets creating a space for Mary to lay down.
Listening to his young wife as she labored had to be discouraging  to Joseph. Every bad decision crashed down upon him –  not making reservations, not leaving a few days earlier, and maybe even not leaving Mary home under her mother’s care.
The whole situation seems like a disaster … that is, until the moment came. A squall is heard as Joseph bends down to usher the Christ child into the arms of his young momma.
His discouragement turns to delight as Mary’s cries of agony are hushed. Close to her breast she cradles the One who is called Immanuel, God with us. And I bet  Joseph can’t help but smile.
The stillness of the night lingers as he bends down to rest next to his bride. She leans against him exhausted as they both look into the eyes of God incarnate.
In the distance they can hear the rumbling of the people in town. It’s bustling with activity, overcrowded and chaotic. Yet, they are far from it. The beauty of solitude overwhelms them surrounded by the stillness. Perhaps even in what seemed a bad decision, he could find the good.
A quiet place away from the busyness.
His sleeping bride resting against him.
The Son of God sleeping close to Mary’s tender heart.
A prophecy fulfilled bringing the promise of hope to a weary soul.
He must have exclaimed … “I don’t know how I ended up here, but I’m sure glad I did!”
And so as I look across the living room at my gigantic, half-decorated tree, I choose not to dwell on my bad decision. Instead, I reflect on how I ended up here.
A home away from the busyness and discouragement that life has brought in this season…
My husband on the couch next to me who loves me more than I ever dreamed…
The Son of God who rescued me from myself and made a home within my heart…
And a promise of hope that fills my soul ushering in the expectation of a Christmas celebration to come.
And that, friends, is what my 8-foot Christmas tree has brought into not only my home but my heart this season.
May we not be discouraged by a poor choice made but find brilliant delight in the One who came to earth so that bad decisions can be redeemed.
And I pray your Christmas this weekend be filled with His tangible presence.
Thanks for spending some time with me today!
Athena