HOLIDAY LIGHTS

 

Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other (Psalm 85)

I woke up this morning realizing I haven’t heard something which, by now, I would normally have heard continuously for at least a month. I haven’t heard any Christmas music!

In quarantine for the pandemic, and for the safety, security, and health of my family, neighbors, and loved ones, I haven’t gone to the stores to do any shopping (beyond groceries). The local mall closed down last summer, so there is no holiday “hot spot” for getting into the feeding frenzy that passes for the Christmas season (which is actually Advent, but let’s not quibble here).

I record all the shows I want to watch on television at night, which means (don’t tell advertisers this, but …) it means I zap through the commercial breaks, so I haven’t heard any holiday music there either. It has made for a very pleasant season, to be honest. I love it, for I don’t care for most of that saccharine schmaltz that passes for “holiday” music. That means when we get to the genuine twelve days of Christmas (December 24 - January 6) we will actually be hearing the seasonal hymns for pretty much the first time this year!

That doesn’t mean all has been silent, quiet, dull, or boring, of course. But there have been changes. I have reached the age where I no longer want to climb ladders to string lights across the roofline. No one would ever confuse me with Clark Griswold (of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation fame), but I have usually made every effort to provide some holiday lighting on our block. This year, though, I decided against going high, and went low, instead. I put lights along the bushes, a lighted wreath above the garage, and our little, modest, pre-lit fake tree in the living room window, and called it a day (or a season).

I even followed instructions. One of my pet peeves about stringing lights along the roofline is the work involved (there are no easy hanging solutions in the world of light-put-uppery). Another is the fact that one string will always go out mid-season. There is no way to fix a string, and there is never a replacement string the same length. Every string is precut, sold, and guaranteed not to stretch the distance needed, or shine with the same luminosity as its neighboring strings.

My bush-net lights warn against attaching more than three nets together, so that’s what I did. I bought proper extension cords, powered all the light sets in their assigned groups of three, and all is well. When the sun goes down, the lights come on and, voila; Christmas cheer!

I have no doubt all the light sets I have bought over the years have similarly warned against connecting too many strings together, but following directions has never been my strong-suit. I am at the age now, however, where I actually take time to read the instructions, not so much because I like to read instructions, but because it gives me something to read between books.

No, it is a strange season we find ourselves traipsing through, but if we keep on walking, odds are we’ll make it out the other side just fine. Thinking about the silence has gotten me to thinking about pulling out some of those old holiday CDs and putting them on. I admit I don’t do streaming music or satellite music, or even radio music. I’m sort of fussy. I know what I like, which is why I have those CDs, and I know how I like to play them. I’d prefer playing vinyl records, but alas my player no longer works.

I’m not really an old stick-in-the-mud, but I am set in my ways with some things, and music is just one of those things. It is in the silence I can hear the Spirit; it is in the quiet I can find peace. It is in righteousness I can find mercy; and it is in mercy I can find the breath of God blowing ever so sweetly here in this, our valley.