As I opened the old cardboard box covered in Christmas stickers, the kids crowded around trying to be the first to glimpse the ornaments lovingly stored inside. Even though decorating the tree can be stressful, and this year was proving especially interesting as I worked with Darcy, Aidan and two other children who refused to respond to names other than ‘Spider-Man’ and ‘Buzz Lightyear’; pulling out the ornaments and putting them up is one of my favorite things in the world. We, all six of us, end up standing in this area of a few feet and looking through all that has been while thinking about what is yet to come.
There are the Sunday school ornaments from when I was Darcy’s age and the kids laugh at the thought of me as a little girl, writing my name in glitter. There are the ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ globes with a date I won’t print on this page and someone asks if running water had been invented by the 1980s while Bob laughs. And then the kids go through their own ornaments, like rediscovered treasures. with a new one marked for each year, and they laugh at some of their earlier choices and greet others like long-lost friends.
Christmas 2013 was the year Darcy chose a Cinderella ornament and all three boys picked small green and yellow John Deere tractor ornaments. Those were hard days to keep the tiny metal tractors on the tree and tamp down the temptation to take them off and play with them every day, but mostly they succeeded.
However, in the course of only a few years and the packing, unpacking and rehanging, Chase’s tractor had succumbed to the wear. It was missing it’s front wheels and steering wheel and I’d totally forgotten about it until I reached into the sticker-covered cardboard box. Chase pressed close and as I pulled out the small box for the tractor, I saw the bright pink post-it with my mom’s neat handwriting from last year: “Needs repair” so I quickly tucked it back into the box. This wasn’t the moment to fix it and I knew if Chase saw it, he’d want it, so I gave him his ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornament instead and we hung it with care. But as I’d moved away from my place in front of the box, Aidan took it, pulling out the damaged tractor’s box once again, holding it high over his head, and yelling “Whose is this?”
The second Chase saw it, he jumped, screaming “Mine! It’s mine! Give it to me, Aidy!” And ripping the box open, he saw the truth of the words he could not read and immediately stilled. “Oh. Mom, this is broken. We need to fix it.”
I held out my hands for the box and the broken ornament. “I know, sweet boy, and we’ll fix it, but for now, why don’t you give it to me? This isn’t the right time. We’re decorating the tree. We’ll get it all set up and then you can hang it another time, okay?”
His head dropped low and I waited for the storm, but it never came. His voice stayed quiet. “But it’s my ornament. I remember it. Can I please hang it up even though it’s broken? I love it.”
Isn’t this the breathtaking wonder of Jesus coming to this world? The purpose in the story of this season? He came as one of us, grabbed for the broken and damaged, the things we’d rather hide away, fix before acknowledging, find another time to deal with, and He lovingly says: “I remembered you. You’re mine. I love you in your brokenness and I’m making all things new.”
Moment by moment.
