Last year, my Christmas tree attacked me on three separate occasions.  You see the base was broken on my fake tree and instead of buying a new one my husband and I decided to use a couple of blocks of wood to stabilize the tree.  Big mistake.

Every time I went to turn on the Christmas tree lights, the tree would sway back and forth just a little bit but it stayed put.  So, feeling triumphant and knowing my husband was now the king of the world in fixing small problems, I got cocky.  I got up one morning and ran to the tree to surprise the kids with a lit Christmas tree as they woke up.

Next thing I know, I am flat on my back with my favorite ornaments dangling in my face.  Acupuncture was not on my Christmas list that year, but with all of those plastic needles I could not escape the feeling of being trapped and poked by an ancient Chinese doctor.  I was TRAPPED by Christmas!  As I wiggled free of my jolly entrapment, a feeling of despair washed over me.

What was the point of putting up all these decorations if I was just going to be ambushed by my ornaments?  Not only did this happen one time but THREE SEPARATE OCCASIONS!  At the end of the season, I took all of the ornaments off the tree and stored them carefully.  I tearfully said goodbye to some of my favorite ornaments that had broken in the tree’s attempt to mug me. 

And then I threw the tree out the back door and told my husband he had better dispose of it quickly or I would make a scene in our neighborhood of kicking it and telling it not so kindly to leave me alone.   His legs ate up the space between us as he gallantly took the tree by the neck for it’s last goodbye in the trash can.

Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year and decorating the tree has been my job alone since I was a teenager.  So, last year as I think back to my favorite Christmas memories, the tree was not in them for the first time in many years.  But, different memories are now in place that will be favored for years to come.

At my small church, with only 20-30 members, my children decided that they needed to participate in decorating the church.  They took their Little People manger set and placed it under the Christmas tree in the front of the sanctuary.  My children visited their little manger scene every Sunday and rearranged it so that it would be just right.   My 2 year old added a fire truck in case Jesus needed a ride he told me.

My (now) 3 year old often tells me… I don’t want you to die.

He wants me to tell him back… well, I don’t want you to die.

But, if we die? I say, where will we go if we believe in Jesus?

He says… Heaven!

And who will be there to hug you and love you?

He says… Jesus!!  Mommy, will you go with me?

So, my question is to you… the question of my three year old… Will you come with me?

Christmas trees come and go… but the Word of the Lord lasts forever.