Tannenbaum

Today I flew home. This will probably be my last Christmas in the house that I have known as home for more than 13 years. It was not a "homey" home - Florida architecture inhibits that, though my mother's excellent decorations make it more real. But it remains home. It's a place I could walk around blindfolded and still find my bed, the fridge, my books, the TV or the keyboard I am using now. My parents will move to be closer to the church they started. My youngest sister will be in college next year. Some other family will make memories here.

However, our Christmas tree will remain home, wherever we place it. Sure, it's not a live tree. But there is an ornament on every branch. The best part is, very few of them actually match each other. My mom started a tradition when I was born. She gives each of us a new Christmas ornament each year. They always had something to do with our personalities and interests, or events that occurred the previous year. 4 children and 26 years later, there's barely room for a popcorn chain. It's a mess. And it's beautiful.

You can keep your hotel Christmas trees. I understand some people really get excited making handsome, matching Tannenbaums to celebrate the season. Whatever floats your boat. I'll keep our family tree. Disorganized, inclusive, messy, beautiful.

I wonder if heaven will be similar. It will no doubt be beautiful, with beauty flowing out from the sun and the lamp which are God Himself. Yet every tongue, tribe and nation will be there. New bodies, new hearts, without sin, without ambition or competition. It will be crowded with a colorful influx of divine humanity Jesus once demonstrated. We may not match, but we will sing together, facing the Lord, our eternal light.

I'll stop myself before I overdo the analogy. My Christmas tree makes me feel at home. It also makes me long for Home.