Holding Loosely

I have learned to hold all things loosely, so God will not have to pry them out of my hands. ~ Corrie Ten Boom

As a family, it’s been tradition to make a celebration out of the evening set aside for Christmas decorating – and it’s usually around mid-November. Carols blare loudly, hot chocolate flows, and there’s happy talk, laughter, and friendly arguments as to who gets to put up the angel tree topper. However, over the past 17 years, there have been so many changes happening in quick succession, with moving to a new country, losing a parent each, our older girls getting married, leaving home and having babies, that it hasn’t been possible to stick strictly to tradition.

Moving country was hard enough, letting go of our home of 20 years harder still for me. And looking back, once in Canada, maybe I held onto what I thought I could control, a little too tightly. The first inkling of changing life seasons was in the hesitancy of the voice that said, “Mum, we’re not staying the night on Christmas eve. We’d like to start our own traditions, in our own home, on Christmas morning”. After 25 Christmases of waking up together under the same roof and listening to squeals of laughter and joy when the stockings stuffed to the brim were slowly unpacked… I had no words. The request was perfectly reasonable but so very hard to hear. And after shedding many tears… I slowly loosened one of the many family strings I was holding onto tightly.

Then our parents’ home of 40+ years was sold. It was my home for the first 22 years of my life and the home that held my heart. I returned to it faithfully every summer with my brood.  My brother and I flew down to India to help my dad. Attics were cleaned out and books that had been treasured all those many years ago were now tossed aside. My dad’s precious crystal & clock collections were given away. The fine china dinner set with roses that was used very rarely and only when ‘very important’ people came for a meal, was given to a friend. Bags of my mother’s sarees, shawls, perfumes, and creams – the dear and familiar were all gone in a few days. It was just a shell of a “full of life” home. And after shedding many tears…I slowly loosened another string.

A few years later, our grandbabies were at an age when they went to bed at 6:30 pm. Now our Christmas dinner has always been on the 24th, after which gifts were exchanged. When the girls got married, I laughingly told their boys that Christmas eve dinner at our home was written into the “marriage contract” in fine print. So, when I was asked to move the Christmas eve dinner to lunch on Boxing Day for that year and for that perfectly good reason, I agreed. Why then did it hurt so badly to loosen that string? Sigh!

“Why do we hold people, traditions, and things so tightly, when life is so temporal?” I asked myself. I spent the last weekend with my 93-year-old dad in Calgary and leaving him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. He looked so thin, frail and sad, and all I wanted was to go back to the time when dad was my world. He was the one who indulged me in everything. The one I ran to when I felt my mother was being unfair. The one who had jet black hair and looked so young even in his eighties. This is a hard string to loosen… I wept all the way on the flight home and prayed for strength to do it when needed. 

So, as I came downstairs this morning, I was faced with a bare tree, boxes everywhere, and a definite lack of enthusiasm at the thought of decorating the house. I slowly opened an ornament box and took out a tiny paper angel. When we celebrated Christmas in our own home for the first time, Becca, our oldest, was 3 years old. I could remember, ever so clearly, how her little face lit up as she chose a set of six silver paper angels for our first tree. Two slightly damaged angels now remain. And each ornament in those boxes hold a special memory of a special time in our life – a time when we were entrusted first, with three beautiful little girls, then two amazing sons and now five adorable grandsons.

Some people have beautifully color-coordinated trees each year, and I look at them in great admiration! But I wouldn’t change our tree for anything. You see, each ornament on our tree reminds me of God’s absolute faithfulness as we did (and still do) life together, with all its joys and sorrows. And this reminder of His Faithfulness makes it easier for me to hold all things more loosely.