she is our tree.

{and side note:  why she?  there is no way our tree was a he.  but why was she a she?  at preschool i very intentionally refer to the random animal or baby doll as “she” and i love seeing kids’ heads snap my way in surprise.  ahhh, yes.}

but she, our tree, is finally down.  well, moved to the front porch.  free of adornment and lights, out of the house. not until a few days ago did i feel really ready to take it all down.  i’m not sure why.  usually i can’t wait to clear the corners of the cluttered joy, the reminder of plenty.

there are layers to it, i’m sure, mixed with a dabble of plain laziness maybe.  but one thing is that i did almost nothing to set this tree up.  the kids decorated it.  with their own box of ornaments and then a family box, the tree was dressed while i sat by with our traditional foods and drinks.

and it was pretty.  dillons, our local grocery store, you did us well.  a cheap and beautiful fir tree.

and perhaps mostly, the tree coming down means the end of this season.  and in the words of our pastor and friend, [with the end of christmas] we move from a season of waiting to a season of action.

i like the short days, the cold weather which pushed us to use the oven more, light candles more, wear layers of clothes more.  i like the built in “something to look forward to,” where the world around us suggests we should be excited for what is coming.

maybe the season of lent can be that for me.  after all, if i want to be motivated by built-in joy and the mystery of the old stories, then easter seems like the one to go for.  and there is plenty in this world to get fired up and active about.

i’ll work on that.