When What to My Wondering Eyes Should Appear ...

When I rounded the corner in our subdivision last Friday night after a long drive home from Wichita, I was delighted to see Christmas lights twinkling on the trees outside our home. In fact, it appeared that someone had even gone to the trouble of creating three large twinkling globes that enhanced the overall impact. I suspected my husband had been up to something, but I didn’t want to assume it was he. After all, I know how much he dislikes putting up outdoor decorations at Christmas. The last time our house had seasonal lighting our son was working a part-time job at a hardware store during his senior year in high school. He wanted to have Christmas lights, so he bought them himself and put them up. As our son is now married and living in Texas, I was pretty certain he wasn’t responsible for what I was seeing.

So who was it? Who lighted up the night in my very own front yard?

Different Families, Different Styles

Surprise, surprise … it was my husband. Even though he could live without all the glow and glitter of the Christmas holiday season, he knows I like it. He remembers that I grew up in a home where my father hung a hovering angel in a large tree over a stable of straw and nearly life-size nativity figures below. The entire scene was lighted with a floodlight that drew the attention of passersby on our country road to the humble setting, complete with wise men, shepherds and animals. He knew that my parents cut their own tree from our farm and that my mother filled the house with lots of good baking smells all through the season. He was aware of people who gathered in my childhood home to celebrate the season, enjoy each other’s company, and eat my mother’s fabulous cooking.

It’s not that Paul doesn’t have memories of his own, but his family’s traditions were not as quite as expansive as ours. Perhaps because my mother’s birthday occurred on November 27 and my folks were married on December 15, they celebrated with enthusiasm and good cheer all through the season. Christmas, it seemed, was an outward expression of their faith and love for family, friends and each other. It’s not that my husband’s family did not celebrate; it’s just that their celebrations were not quite as exuberant as ours.

The Annual Christmas Argument

And so, for years and years we had the “annual Christmas argument.” Though we rarely, if ever argued about money the rest of the year, during the holiday season we were in conflict. I preferred generosity; he valued frugality. We struggled over how much entertaining we would do. I wanted lots of people; he was exhausted from school and church activities and programs and preferred a quiet night at home. I loved the embellishments of the season; he favored something simpler, including more down time after a hectic time at work.

Over time, we developed a more reasonable approach to celebrating the season—a compromise between his family’s style and my own. It wasn’t always easy for either of us to content ourselves with something each saw as more or less essential or unessential, but we have agreed that tension and conflict are no way to enjoy the Christmas season. I even gave up, for the most part, on nagging about outdoor lights—though I do admit to sighing wistfully over especially well-done displays.

Healthy Sacrifice

When two people love each other and are committed to each other, their relationship is characterized by healthy sacrifice. For this reason, my mother bought hip waders and joined my father fishing. For this reason, my father dug up flower beds and moved rocks to accommodate my mother’s love of flowers. My mother didn’t care that much about fishing. My father wouldn’t have bothered with flowers, had it not been for her. I suspect the same thinking was behind my husband’s trimming of the trees outside our front door. He did it for me and I love him for it. Why not do something (instead of buying something) for someone you love this season—not because you enjoy it so much yourself, but because it would mean a lot to them. And then … post on the blog and let us know what you did.