My friends call me a kill-joy when it comes to Christmas decorations. Maybe that’s because I like to take everything down as soon as possible, preferably as soon as we all sing the last note of “Silent Night” and blow out our candles at church. If it were up to me, we all would sing one last “Oh Tannenbaum” after we unwrap our gifts, clean up the bows and wrapping paper and get on with it, put it all back into the green and red storage containers. But, I can wait — at least until the day after Christmas Day.  

It’s not that I’m a hater of all things glitter (even though I try to avoid Hobby Lobby at all cost around the holidays). I don’t oppose those who celebrate the birth of our Savior into or even way past the New Year. No. I just love the simplicity of what comes after Christmas. And because for this reason, and with great anticipation, I got up this morning and worked Christmas backwards, deconstructed and disassembled it. I tucked away the ornaments and lights and stashed the tree back into its bag and took it down to the basement. I washed the white, starry tablecloths and doilies from the ham-stains and stacked them neatly into the linen closet for next year. While many were at Hobby Lobby to look for half-off deals today and while they gathered more glittery things, I put away all my Christmassy things – all except for just a few. I will keep these up all year.

Of all the greeting cards I received this year and displayed on my kitchen cork board for a couple of weeks leading up to Christmas, I kept two and placed them on the fridge.

One is from a dear friend, a single mom from our church. The photo shows her and her daughter smiling. “Rejoice,” it says next to a bright star on an otherwise dark background. But what’s more, and what nobody can see, is what it says on the back. In a few hand-written words to me and my husband she told us how she witnessed our faith over the past years during a difficult time. She said that it had given her hope for her own journey. Quite frankly, we had no idea that anyone watched or noticed while we dragged ourselves to church every Sunday and worshipped the Lord. Her photo-card reminded us that while our lives seemed dark and hopeless to us, when we turned to Jesus and pressed on, He was glorified.

The other Christmas card I kept and display now on the fridge is from a friend who lost her beloved twelve-year-old son in a tragic accident about six months ago. She, along with her husband and daughter stand in the photo. A powerful reminder of the ability to still be upright, despite the deep, dark valleys and unimaginable pain, a witness to the power of a loving community.

There are two more displays I keep all year. This morning I moved them from the dining room to their less prominent place on the bookshelf in the living room. One is a small, hand carved nativity. The other, made in a similar fashion, is a simply carved display of an empty tomb and a cross behind it. I love to light both with a tea-light on dreary nights, especially when all is quiet.

For me, there is something wonderful and beautiful when all the glitz is gone and there is suddenly room for powerful reminders, the less spectacular and simpler ones. This is what I crave in the middle of the busy and distracting. Deep down in my heart I need simple and easy to grasp truths which hold me up and turn me toward Christ. Simple encouragements, brothers and sisters who point me to Jesus, and those who tell me that they see Him in me, even in my darkest moments.

I am sure your tree is still lit and your tins are still filled with Christmas treats. But when all your lights are tucked away, too, when the last of your company has left, remember that Jesus remains in you. The greatest gift the world has ever known never leaves nor forsakes you. No matter what happens this coming year, no matter who remembers you or who forgets you, no matter if people think of you as a friend or a foe, no matter if your days are filled with joy or are dark, Christ came to bring you peace with God.

May His light remain in and with us – now and throughout eternity.