When I was little, one of my favorite holiday traditions was driving around with my family to see the Christmas lights in our neighborhood in Ardmore, Oklahoma. I was in awe of the amazing decorations and the lights on the roofline of the houses. My mom always said the solid colors, all blue or all white, were the most beautiful, but I really liked the ones that were multicolored – to me, that seemed fancy and perfect. We would enjoy spending time taking in all the joy and peace of the season represented in these simple lights and decorations shining in the darkness.
I couldn’t wait to get home to decorate our house. We would light the house and the lone evergreen in our front yard. We always asked for the multicolored lights – though my mom would usually win out, and for years, we had solid blue lights lining our roof. The process was an all-day activity – retrieving the decorations from the attic, long strands of lights on the lawn, and the dreaded checking to see if they still worked. Dad would then spend the rest of the day attaching each one along the roofline. We would stand on the lawn in darkness and wait for dad to plug in the lights so we could “ooh” and “ahh” at the bright glow from our house. Sometimes, we would even sing Silent Night – just our family standing on the lawn, the true meaning of Christmas flooding our hearts and minds.
Later in life, I realized both the joy and the dread of seasonal decorations. Though I still loved the decorations, my desire to bring it all out and go through the work involved hampered my motivation. When Brad and I first got married – our only outdoor Christmas light was a single green bulb that I would routinely place in our porchlight on December 1. The green hue bathing the front steps would be “the decorations,” and I would call it good. Not great game when all the neighbors have décor to rival Christmas Vacation, but good enough considering the ease of execution.
One year, when our daughter was old enough to enjoy Christmas lights, she asked, “Where are our lights?” That year, we bought icicle lights for the house, had colorful lights down the front steps, and a moving display shining on the front. I still remember her excitement when we drove up that first night, circling to the front to surprise her. She couldn’t believe all the lights and laughed with joy at seeing our house ready for the season, too. Our Christmas lights not only brought joy to her but brought flooding back all the memories of my childhood Christmases. The simple lights, driving around with my family to see the neighborhood, and singing a Christmas carol as we watched the unveiling of our own.
Long into my adulthood, dad still decorated their home with lights. I could be wrong, but it seemed like those same 40-year-old blue bulbs lined the edge of our roof. The last time he was able to put them out, I recall that old evergreen tree still draped with simple bulbs, but this time, they were multicolored, and boy, were they fancy and perfect!
Lori Hall, Executive Director of Missions
