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The kids argued, “I like this one.” “No, it’s not perfect; there’s too many gaps.”
At the beginning of Advent each year, we’d trudge through the woods in the deep snow with little kids and friends. Like spies on a mission, we were seeking the perfect pine tree to haul back to our homes for Christmas. We threw snowballs, hauled snow-suited babies on our backs, and hollered, "Look at this one." It was fun and quickly became a favorite family tradition.
There were many options, but which would be the prized choice? Eventually, we’d succumb to the best selection and cut our tree (or trees) down like a lumberjack skillfully narrows his pick.
The reality was there were no perfect trees. Each unique tree was beautiful in many ways, but all of them had flaws or gaps that could not be denied.
I’m seeking a Charlie Brown tree lifestyle because I’ve tried the perfect one, and it doesn’t work.
Have you sought the perfect life, looking in different directions, at other people, or an ideal image only to be let down repeatedly? I have. Like we sought the perfect Christmas tree, seeking a flawless life ends in frustration.
It might seem like we’re settling when we choose the charlie brown tree and life. Yet, there’s hidden beauty in the tree and our gap-filled lives. The gaps leave space for children to create (they love the freedom to decorate without a controlling perfectionistic mom hovering over them) and for God to breathe life into our wounds and weaknesses.
Our Charlie Brown gap-filled lives slowly find freedom when we release control of a perfect tree lifestyle and loosen our grip as if surrendering the image we’ve sought for so long. It might not look as expected, but we find beauty in our imperfect tree.
Can we seek presence over perfection? Can we embrace the gaps in our lives, realizing those gaps have a purpose?
“If perfect is plastic, present is rich, loamy soil. It’s fresh bread, lumpy and warm. It’s real and tactile and something you can hold with both hands, something rich and warm. Present is a face bare of makeup, a sweater you’ve loved for a decade, a mug that reminds you of who you used to be. It’s the Bible with the battered cover, the journal filled with scribbled, sweet dreams. It isn’t pretty necessarily-it isn’t supposed to be.” Shauna Niequist
Our Charlie Brown tree lives aren’t perfect, nice, or neat; instead, they're complete and abundantly full of gratitude at the center because we’ve surrendered perfection to Christ-like he’s the one in charge rather than us.
A surrendered life never looks the way we expect, just like hunting for a tree in the woods quickly debunks the image we have in our heads. It’s easy to launch into life with a perfect picture of how it will look, but if we don’t surrender that image, we will quickly be saddened by dreams (what we thought were dreams) falling short. Our dreams are often found in the gaps, the spaces we fill with gratitude, surrendered plans (he’s got the big picture), and openness to unexpected beauty.
Each Advent, we trudge through the woods. The kids still fight, and we must decide which ones will be our Christmas treasure. No matter the decision, I’m always blessed with trees to haul home. My Charlie Brown trees continue to surprise me with unexpected beauty and joy.
Are you allowing God into the gaps of your life?
“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way.” Psalm 37:23