Trimming The Tree And…The Excess Of My Heart

It was right about when she hung that mess of balls together and he strung the gold beads all criss-crossy on our tree that I remembered a scene from a few years ago. Of course, they were much littler then, but somehow I cared so much more how perfect everything had to be, how each ball had it’s place and how each light should be turned outward. And, when those small people had been tucked in tight under quilts, I’d go back and rearrange. Somehow, God got a hold of me, and as my children trim the tree year after year, my Lord trims the excess stuff from my heart, the stuff that keeps kids from feeling like their efforts are good enough. I see life so much clearer now.