This is us at the Christmas Tree farm. We really did try to take a nice picture. Well at least one of us did. I am showing these in black and white because they actually look better this way. I think maybe it shows the contrast, and looks a little less blurry. Clearly, I am going to have to work on my photography skills. And clearly my family is going to have to work on standing still. (In their defense there were three “farm dogs” running around that kept grabbing their attention.) But again I am choosing to use them. Here. Publicly. Imperfect and unmastered. Blurry. Like life sometimes. This is us. Sometimes we are all looking at the camera and smiling at the same time, and sometimes only part of us are.
Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. ~Philippians 3:12
After much hunting and looking, lots of comparing and “come see this one,” and four frozen noses and forty frozen toes, we found a tree perfect for us. The kids look every year to find a perfectly imperfect tree. One that might not otherwise be chosen. They don’t choose the prettiest tree or even the “Charlie Brown” style tree. They look for one with a big hole in it, a flat side, or a lopsided tree. They try to find the wonkiest tree on the farm. I love this about them. I love that they see the beauty in imperfection. See how imperfection becomes beautiful with love and caring, and from just being chosen in the first place. It is a reminder that God finds us, a “tree” on a huge farm of trees, and He chooses us, imperfect, lopsided, and wonky. It’s as if He says, “I want you. I see your beauty. And I will see your beauty every minute of every day. Even when you are flat, or have holes, or are irregular. Even when you feel ugly or blurry. I will clearly see your beauty. And I will still choose you. And I will still love you. Always.”
This year the girls chose a Christmas tree that looks like it has a cactus growing out of the top. Or like it couldn’t decide which was going to be it’s top, heaven-pointing branch so it picked three. And it’s perfectly imperfect. It’s perfect for us. And if we take a few blurry pictures and squint just a little, it might just be the most beautiful tree we’ve eve