Somewhere in a dusty box is a crayon drawing on construction paper, a Christmas card I drew for my mom 40 years ago. It was a gift, but, in hindsight, so much more.
I wish knew where the original card was for comparison. The card depicts a fireplace, a fire inside, with a Christmas tree to one side. Stockings hang from the mantel, and a wreath hangs above.
I didn't have that growing up: We had a space heater to warm our four rooms–not a safe place for stockings. The only indoor decoration was a cedar tree covered in dime store silver icicles and cheap, fragile glass balls. The tree was usually secured in a coffee can filled with rocks and tethered to a corner with string and a nail to keep it from falling over.
The card was a dream, a hope for the future, and I guess it never left me.
We decorated our house for the holidays the weekend after Thanksgiving. My family will tell you I am kind of obsessive about the decorations. My need for symmetry, order, theme and good taste overrules much help for others. The finished product this year features snowmen, a nod to my wife's love of all things Frosty.
I was in our kitchen a few days later, when I turned and caught a glimpse of our tree. The site stopped me in my tracks. It immediately triggered a memory of that card from so long ago and a realization that God is a seed planter, promise keeper, plan maker and way maker.
I couldn't keep from smiling. So, I stopped right then, took a picture of a scene I imagined four decades ago, and said a prayer.
God, You overwhelm me. You have given me my heart's desire. You planted in my boyhood mind a vision for what life could be like, and You have brought it to fruition. Thank You for Your plan, for loving me, for providing for me and for showing me Your faithfulness in the lights of Christmas.
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