Why? Why do I spend an entire afternoon stringing (and throwing — while hoping it catches on a lone branch) Christmas lights outside? It’s not for me. Well, that’s kind of not true — some of it is for me. I do love the peace and silence — once my body goes numb with cold. I love the beauty when I’m done. I do love the laughter with the girls. And I love having lights outside — it’s so festive — the lights twinkling against the sparkling snow.
I put lights up for my kids.
It’s about memories. Tradition. Sentiment. Excitement. Joy.
My little ones will stand in the living room and stare out the window in wonder as strand after strand lights up the yard. (Just a tidbit of info — I only use strands of lights — no blowups, plastic things, signs, etc — just simple strands. There are probably over 2000 lights out there.) With each light that goes up you can see the excitement rise. My little Elijah excitedly exclaimed — it’s Christmas outside! — as his little eyes glowed with glee as he watched me work.
My kids start asking in October if I’ll put lights up. How could I not? Do I regret that day, the time outside? Not in the least. Someday my sweet little ones, and not so little anymore, will be grown. And they will remember.
They’ll remember the lights.
They’ll remember their mom outside weaving the lights on bushes.
They’ll realize how much I love them.
Because I really do. Christmas is not about the stuff. It’s about Jesus. And family. And traditions. And memories. One little light at a time.