Here it is. A day we mark on our calendars well in advance. The tradition we live out every year to climb on the back of a tractor, saw in hand, and hunt down the perfect tree. Evan seems to have a knack for it as he carefully examines branches and needles, height and shape, shaking his head at our suggestions and then guarding his own until we ultimately come back around to the one he chose.
It’s tradition. And, it’s good fun to yell timber as our 6 ft. tower of evergreen slowly crashes, always softer than the kids wish it would. Even fighting them to try to get a fun picture brings smiles to our faces.
As much fun as hayrides and pine tree hunting and free hot cocoa and cookies are, we don’t cut down a tree, remove it from where it’s lived for 7 years so that it can die in our living room for fun.
Advent. It means coming. When something big is coming, preparation is required. And, we have been preparing. With every step of preparation, there is a grander sense of what is coming.
As we prepare our home and prepare our gifts, our hearts are moved to prepare as well. And, that’s why we do what we do. We’re preparing our hearts for the incarnation, the coming of the great rescuer.
We’ve been reading about Him every night at dinner and seeing glimpses of hearts that are more readily letting go of the consumerism that consumes during this season and instead grasping a story, the grandest story of all time, and starting to see that they’re a part of it.
