When I was growing up, my family had a silver (aluminum) Christmas tree. Instead of pine needles, the branches had shiny tinsel strips, and those limbs were so far apart that the bare assembly looked more like a coat rack than a tree. It was only after we put hundreds of ornaments on it that it began to look the part, so every year that’s what we did. And every year, I grumbled about it.
If I remember correctly, my dad had picked it up in a thrift store, and it conveniently broke down into pieces, so as to fit back in the box. This made sense, as we were a military family, and constantly on the move. There really wasn’t time, money or a bunch of extra room for a real tree, so all through my childhood, this shiny forgery was it.
Other than the barrenness of its branches, my big issue was that you couldn’t put Christmas lights on it, and I loved Christmas lights. It bothered me that “everyone else” had Christmas lights on their tree, and we couldn’t have them on ours.
My dad tried to make it more palatable by getting a color wheel, which made the tree appear to change colors. And while I have to admit that I really did like that part, I just couldn’t get past my dislike for this aluminum counterfeit.
To add insult to injury, when I got old enough to earn my own money, I went out and bought an artificial green tree that we could put lights on, but my family opted to keep the silver tree because it had become our tradition. Needless to say, I was not a happy elf.
Within a few short years of that particular Christmas, my brothers and I had all moved on, and the silver tree disappeared into the rearview mirror of my memory. For a long time, I didn’t think much about it, and for all my adult years, I’ve had a green tree covered in lights. But recently, I came across a little statue with a silver tree on it, and the memories came flooding back.
At this point in my life, my dad has been gone for over twenty years, my mom is half way across the country and in poor health, and I can often go for years without seeing or spending quality time with my siblings. Though I love my own family, and the Christmas traditions we have established over the years, there is a part of me that would give anything to go back, and spend another Christmas underneath that gaudy lightless tree.
If that were possible, I would gladly trade my Christmas lights, for a few hours within the glow of that color wheel, and in the presence of the father that I so dearly miss. How I’d love to revisit the time when my brothers and I were just kids, without all the commitments and burdens of adulthood, and more importantly, without all the sibling rivalry that so often stole the joy of our moments together.
If I could go back, I would spend more time appreciating the wonder that my younger sister brought back to Christmas, instead of being so caught up in my own adolescent haze. And I would hug my mother, and be more grateful for all that she did to make those holidays special.
Like so many other times in my life, I failed to recognize the profound blessings of the moment, and the fleeting nature of those seasons of my history. I spent so much of that time caught up in my own turbulent thoughts, and manic emotions, that I missed the richness of the gifts I had been given.
With the benefit of hindsight, I wish that I had understood the precious nature of that time, and had embraced it for what it was. But instead, I allowed meaningless irritations (e.g. lights on the tree) to steal so much of the joy that was afforded me.
As I reflected on all of this, I decided to buy the little statue of the silver tree as a way of reminding myself not to allow petty irritations and meaningless details to steal the joy and beauty of the moments I have left on this earth. And as a symbol of the rich inheritance that’s been passed on to me.
But before I could get this keepsake on my shelf, it became clear to me that what I really needed to do was send this statue to my mother, both to acknowledge all the effort she and my father put in to building a life for their children, and as an expression of the gratitude that laid dormant within my heart for too many years.
Thank you, Mom, I love you! Merry Christmas.
Bjcorbin's Blog 
Getting Personal
November 25, 2024 by bjcorbin
I grew up in a devoutly Catholic family, and while that upbringing definitely provided a foundation of Christian belief in my life, it also left me with the sense that God was too high and too holy to be approached directly.
In those days, I participated in the sacraments, and trusted that the “Church” knew what they were doing in regards to keeping me in right standing with God. It wasn’t until years later, when I heard some of my evangelical friends asking whether I had a personal relationship with Jesus that I even realized such a thing might exist.
When I eventually decided to read the Bible for myself, I was on the lookout for the scripture that said this “personal relationship” was something God wanted. Here is what I found.
Right off the bat, I ran into the creation story, and particularly the events that took place in the Garden of Eden. Even a Catholic boy knows that story, but for the first time I found myself considering God’s perspective.
I’d always been taught that the garden was essentially paradise, and that God was offering what amounted to an ideal existence. But I wondered what God might have gained from this arrangement, if man had not chosen to go his own way.
After reviewing the passage multiple times, the only benefit He seemed to derive was the ability to walk with them in the cool of the day (Gen.3:8), which caused me to consider that maybe that was all He really wanted.
Despite the disappointment in the garden, God takes another step toward man, as He initiates a covenant with Abraham (Gen.15). And before the end of the first book of the Bible, I came across the story of Jacob wrestling with God, and having his named changed to Israel (Gen.32:28).
Though Jacob was hardly a model character, God seemed impressed by his desire to interact with Him. These encounters seemed to be clear expressions of God’s desire for a tangible relationship with His people.
While the Exodus story was filled with spectacular miracles, I couldn’t help but notice that God seemed to want to personally guide them through the wilderness, as He appears as a cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night (Exo.13:21), and spoke directly to them from Mount Sinai (Exo.19:16-22).
Unfortunately, the Israelites recoiled from that personal communication, instead, asking Moses to act as their intermediary (Exo.20:19).
Later, when the children of Israel clamored for an earthly king (1Sam.8), the Lord lamented that He had wanted to be their king (1Sam.12:12-15).
After reading of David’s escapades with Bathsheba, and Uriah (1Sam.11), it was almost jarring to hear him referred to as a “man after God’s own heart (1Sam.13:14),” and yet, despite his serious transgressions, the Father seemed pleased by David’s relentless pursuit of Him.
It wasn’t lost on me that after Solomon received the gift of wisdom, he began having visions of intimacy (Song of Songs). And I found it interesting that amongst the Lord’s criteria for effective prayer (2Chron.7:14), He listed “seek my face.”
Though we naturally tend to seek God’s hand of protection, provision, and deliverance, seeking His face eludes to the personal nature of the relationship He desires.
A few chapters later, this is reinforced with the understanding that the Lord “goes to and fro about the earth, looking for hearts that are truly His (2Chron.16:9).”
When queried about the “greatest commandment,” Jesus doesn’t speak of obedience, or service, or building the church, He puts it squarely on loving the Lord our God with all of our heart, soul, and strength (Matt.22). And when His work on the cross was finished, the veil that separated His people from the presence of God was ripped open (Matt.27:51).
Later, the Hebrew writer would explain that the Levitical priesthood would never have led to the type of relationship the Lord desired (Heb.7-10), and in the book of Revelation God’s children are referred to as a kingdom of priests (Rev.1:6).
Paul spoke of how we could now behold Him with unveiled faces (2Cor.3:18), and of how the Lord would one day return for a spotless bride (Eph.5:27).
Over and over again, both in word and deed, the Lord expresses His strong desire to walk closely with His children, and almost as regularly, we see people who call themselves by His name choose their own path (Prov.14:12).
Perhaps the scariest scripture in the gospels occurs when Jesus tells His disciples that not everyone who calls Him Lord will enter the Kingdom of heaven. Not because of their sin, but because of their lack of genuine connection to Him (Matt.7:23).
It is a chilling thought that one who anticipates the words, “well done good and faithful servant (Matt.25:21)” might hear, “away from me, I never knew you (Matt.7:23).”
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Posted in Commentaries | Tagged Evangelical, I never knew you, Personal, personal relationship, personally, pursuit, relationship, sacraments, seek my face | Leave a Comment »