Thanksgiving is over. Christmas is on its way.
Lights are up in the neighborhood – a seemingly friendly competition between neighbors to see whose house can be best and most lit.
In the standard Jarvis tradition, the inside of our house is fully decorated, color coordinated and (forgive me for saying so of my own dwelling) lovely. Normally, this, with the exception of a wreath on the door and some porch decorations, would be the extent of our visible holiday cheer. Much to Blake’s chagrin, our house does not bear colorful lights, as Mark is deathly afraid of heights. We have never won a neighborhood contest in this department.
This year would prove to be different. Blake, coming home for Thanksgiving and finishing up his first semester of college, brought a new sense of sentimentality and determination in putting up lights around the house and fence. Our neighbors provided the ladder. Blake and I went and purchased the lights, the clips and any other do dad that looked like it would make the task easier. The smile on Blake’s face was priceless. My son was going to finally experience his childhood dream.
The day was cold. But my heart was incredibly warm as I watched Mark and Blake head out to begin their new project together. Or rather, Blake’s new project. Mark was merely there for moral and ladder support and time spent with his man child. Father-son time.
Many hours later, many circuits blown and many broken bulbs later, the job was done. I’m not sure which lit up brighter – Blake’s face or the string of lights when they were turned on. The boys had done it! Mission accomplished! Dream fulfilled!
That night we all went out and looked at the lights gleaming in the dark. Blake was so proud. Mark was so tired. Mama was so happy 🙂
Seems like the perfect ending to a happy story. But the Jarvis household norm would not allow perfection. Not our style. We more resemble the Griswold family in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. The next morning, there were the lights – drooping and falling from the rafters, white trash style. Funny? Almost. Pretty? Uh, no.
There’s a sign down the street that reads, “WE HANG CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!” I think I’ll give them a call and pay the good money to put those lights where they should be.
The moral of the story?
Sometimes we have a picture in our head of what we think reality should look like. Most often it’s closer to perfection than not. We do all the hard work and think the results should be without flaw. But we live in a fallen world. Brokenness will still show, even after our best efforts. And that’s okay. Look at the Griswold’s. Imperfect. But we love them. We laugh with them. Their story has become an American classic. It’s the imperfection that we can relate to and find endearing.
Sometimes our imperfections, like the Jarvis’ light fiasco, need a little help from the outside. Also a good thing. Knowing we can’t do life alone doesn’t illustrate our weakness. It highlights our strength in having the wisdom to reach out for assistance.
And if we are the ones winning a particular “light competition” of life, maybe we’re equipped to help that person down the street who might need a ladder to take the first step up, or a helping hand or our expertise. If we see their “lights” drooping, we need to stop and offer our help.
Seems like a good time to curl up with a cup of tea and watch the Griswolds at their wacky best…
1 John 3:17 – But whoever has the world’s goods, and beholds his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?
Hebrews 6:10 – God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.
Philippians 2:4 – Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.
2 Corinthians 12:10 – That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
