By Cheryl Magness
In
the town we used to live in there was a house I passed almost daily in my
travels, sometimes multiple times. It was located about halfway between my own
house and my church. Its position, backing up to a greenway next to my regular
route, meant that I had a good view of the back of the house rather than the
front.
For
about 10 Christmases in a row, as I drove that route back and forth, this house
was lavishly decorated. And the decorations were of the sort that I actually
like--not those big plastic/inflatable monstrosities, just lots and lots of
lights in many colors. It's unusual to see the back of a house decorated so
extensively, but no doubt the owners realized that more people saw the back of
their house than the front. So year after year they kindly provided those who
were driving by with quite an impressive display.
Then
there was a year that Christmas came and went, but the lights never went up. I
assumed that the house had changed hands and that the new owners weren't
continuing the tradition. Too bad, I thought. I will miss that daily dose of
holiday cheer.
But
lo and behold, the following year the decorations were back! And they were
identical to those I had seen on the house for years, leaving me to conclude
that the house did not change owners after all (although I suppose it is
possible the previous owner left the light display behind). Which left me to
wonder:
What
happened? Why were there no lights that one year?
The
possibilities were endless. Was there an extended illness? Cancer, maybe?
Chemotherapy treatments? Was there a job loss? Was there a serious injury, a
divorce or a death? Perhaps there was a military deployment.
Maybe
there was a joyous event, like the birth of a new baby.
Or
maybe they were just tired.
There is no way of knowing, but my gut told me there was a story there. And today as I think about how many houses I drive by every day, some with Christmas decorations, some without, I can't begin to imagine the complicated stories playing out in each of them. It boggles my mind to think of how many people there are in this world and of the various trials they are facing. Really, it's a wonder any lights get hung at all!
But
thanks be to God that there is a Light that doesn't need any of us to hang it
up, plug it in, or turn it on. It is the Light of Christ, the Light that shoots
like a laser through the darkest darkness, the Light that shines no matter the
season, the Light that had no beginning and has no end. It is the Light we
await this Advent, the Light that became flesh and entered our time-space
continuum a little over two thousand years ago, the Light that suffered, died
and rose, ascended into heaven, and promises to come again. It is the Star of
Bethlehem, the radiant beams from the face of the Holy Child, the Light that
shines from the throne of God and wraps itself with perfect love around His
saints.
Whether
or not you hang lights on your house this year, next year, or ever, may you
bask in the Light of Him who is Light, as that Light shines to you and through
you for all to see.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” -
John 1:5
***
Cheryl is the sister of ten, daughter of two, mother of three, and wife of one. She was an English teacher in a past life but these days freelances as a writer and musician. She blogs at A Round Unvarnish'd Tale and has also been published by The Federalist, American Thinker, OnFaith, and Touchstone magazine. Cheryl lives in Oklahoma with her husband, a Lutheran cantor, and their three children.
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