O Come Let Us Assemble

I think it’s very healthy to spend time alone.You need to know how to be alone and not defined by another person. Olivia Wilde

We don’t get a lot of snow in Western Washington in the lower elevations along the Puget Sound. When we do, it generally falls in January and February. However, a few weeks ago there were snow flurries here where I live, and heavier snow storms were wreaking havoc up in the mountain passes. While I don’t usually worry about shoveling snow by hand, last year I found the snow wetter and heavier than normal. It was what is often referred to as “widow-maker snow,” and I am at an age where that certainly feels a lot more prophetic than poetic.

Consequently, I drove around to our local hardware and big box stores and discovered, much to my dismay, that others had been quicker on the draw and scarfed up all the decently priced snow blowers that had been in stock. That meant I had to order mine online and have it delivered, which is what I did.

I knew it would have to be assembled, but I never worry about things like that. I’m not exactly a mechanical genius, but I do know how to read instructions and watch educational videos. I know the difference between a sledge hammer and a screw driver (one drives screws in a LOT faster), so I never approach the assemblage of goodies with fear or trepidation. 

I do, however, approach such tasks with caution, for it seems I have a smattering of dyslexia when it comes to reading diagrams. I simply cannot convert a two dimensional drawing into a three dimensional activity. I also have a knack for always (and I do mean “always”) putting things together backwards or reversed if that option is possible. The snow blower was no exception. I attached the handles quickly. What could be simpler than four bolts and their corresponding knobs?

Silly question! The middle handle has a “guide” for a rod which, as I discovered, I’d placed wrong-side-down. OK, it was a quick fix, but still a typical mistake. Then I attached the top handle, only to learn I’d missed a step, and then after correcting that error, discerned that I had installed that handle upside down and backwards, too. Uff da!

Oh well. I took things in stride. I know my skills and proclivities, and so things like this simply don’t cause me any grief. On the contrary, they cause me to chuckle. It isn’t an “I don’t care,” kind of laugh. I do care. But I don’t take myself so seriously that I can’t enjoy the challenge of overcoming my own shortcomings and completing a task for which I may not be well suited. 

I like the pride that accompanies an accomplishment (not to be confused with the pride of one’s ego), and the victory is even sweeter when I know I am having the last laugh over illustrators and translators whose sole goals are seemingly to thwart people like me with pictures and instructions that often make no sense! As young Kevin MacCallister says, “Take that, you filthy animals!”

There will likely be a lot of assembling taking place over the next few weeks as folks find themselves opening packages marked “Some Assembly Required.” Don’t sweat it. Slow and steady wins the race. It is, in some ways, a metaphor of the season, isn’t it?

Jesus came into the world with some assembly required. Joseph and Mary had to plan and assemble a trip to Bethlehem. Angels assembled over the hills, singing their carols to shepherds who then had to relocate, assembling around a manger. Magi bearing gifts (none of which required assembling, we should note) traveled across moors and mountains “following yonder star,” assembled in Jerusalem, then in Bethlehem, then skedaddled before Herod could have them or the Holy Family disassembled!

No matter what your holiday gatherings look like this year, know that life comes with some assembly required. It did for Jesus; it does for us. May God bless you whenever, wherever, and with whomever you assemble here in these, our most blessed valleys. Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and (soon) Happy New Year!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

Oh, Go Ahead; Let Your Light Shine!

Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joys, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings. William Arthur Ward

The lights are up. We had a couple of nice days following Thanksgiving, and while I wasn’t in the mood to decorate for Christmas, the weather around here does not wait for moods. I looked at the weather app on my phone and saw a line of unpleasant weather lined up for the next week and a half (and if I don’t like putting up decorations in good weather, I assure you that I absolutely abhor doing so when the weather turns “frightful”), so I gathered up our flock of outdoor delights, untangled them, and hung them where I’ve always hung them. I’m nothing if not unoriginal.

Anyway, the lights are up. It’s not a tough job, to be honest. I have lighting nets that go over the barberry bushes that line our front yard and driveway, and the Japanese maple that anchors the entrance to our drive. The wreath was carefully hung over the garage, with swags of lighted garland stretched out like angel’s wings. It’s not much, but it’s what we can plug into the outlet without blowing circuits or requiring the local power company to fire up their nuclear plants.

The lights are up. Or at least they were (to my satisfaction) when my life partner stepped out to inspect the fruits of my labor. “The nets are upside down,” she said. 

I explained that the space between the barberry bushes is such that the cords that connect one net to another forced me to stretch them across like power lines between poles. The problem, she pointed out, is that each cord comes with an ugly sun-bright yellow caution tag. “If you hang the nets with the cord at the bottom, it will look less ugly,” she explained.

My Viking blood began to boil, but fortunately it was too cold outside to mumble anything other than, “Yes, I see what you mean” through my frozen lips. So I took the extra three minutes it required to flip the nets onto their proverbial heads (or, in this case, feet), and I am happy to report that everything does, indeed, look better.

The lights are up. There is a cranky side to my soul that objects to the hoopla and folderol surrounding the Christmas season. As a stickler for tradition, I note for the record here that what society calls the “Christmas Season” is (in my own Episcopal Church tradition) the season of Advent, but it would be easier to stop the moon or tides from rising than to convince the world around us that this time of year is about anything other than Santa, reindeer, elves, and ghosts of seasons past. So be it.

There is a cranky side to my soul, indeed, but if I ignore it, it goes back to sleep pretty quickly. Like an old watchdog, it hears a strange noise, takes a moment to sound an alarm, and as soon as the owner of the house looks out the window, the hound lays its head back in its furry paws, returning to dreams of chasing rabbits or squirrels, knowing there is nothing more to do until the Master calls.

The month of December is short, cold, dark, and miserable enough that I don’t need to add the weight of my own grumblings to the load others are under. The lights are up. They are an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. As cold and as dark as things may seem outwardly, there is a warmth and a light burning inwardly.

While Jesus does urge us to pray in secret and not wear our religion on our sleeves, in other places he encourages us to “let your light shine so that others may see the good you do, putting your spotlight on God in heaven” (Matthew 5:16, my paraphrase).

So the lights are up. They’re hung right-side up and (true story), the weather app has changed all the terrible, horrible, rainy-wet, no-good days that had been predicted to sunny days here in this, our valley. It’s a miracle and the lights are up. Amen!

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)