Christmas: The Fake Tree/Real Tree Dilemma

I’ve had a bittersweet relationship with Christmas.

I don’t know anybody who loves the Christmas season more than I do. Songs, smells, lights, gifts, decorations, parties, along with special food and drink is a highlight of my year. Even better is the meaningful reality found in our church as we anticipate the coming of Christmas and all that means—Advent—from Thanksgiving through the end of the year. Wherever I am, Christmas feels like home. As my 7 year old said when we were decorating tonight, “Christmas just feels cozy”.

However, at some point early in every Christmas season of my adult life I have come down sick. I always figured it was part of the way I was built: The change of seasons caused my body to malfunction. And over the years I just sort of learned to put up with it. Until last year.

Last year through some research I should have done a long time ago, I realized I have an allergy to Christmas trees. Years of tortured Decembers suddenly made sense to me. My body’s challenge to living in western Oregon (The Christmas tree capital) in the winter included both a lack of sunshine-provided vitamin D, and other seasonal mold allergies to which I was prone; but the fresh, live Christmas trees growing all around us and proudly on display in our house was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

I love the family tradition that surrounds our tree. Discovering the tree (preferably at a tree farm where we cut it, but usually, after moving to SoCal, in a parking lot at Home Depot), figuring out how to put it in or on our car, driving it home, cutting the trunk so it will “drink” better, setting it in the tree stand so the bare parts face the back, and then stringing the hundreds of lights and decorating it with years of ornaments—every one with a meaning and story. Then we had to clean up the mess. All while listening to Vince Guaraldi’s “Charlie Brown Christmas” or Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song” CD and drinking something yummy and warm.

Those moments have been the source of some of our very favorite family memories, including Deborah and my first real fight as a married couple, which was about setting the tree up (now we laugh, but then…). Regardless of the recollection, part of the process included the challenge and work involved in the whole experience.

This year to avoid days laid out in bed, I capitulated and joined the ranks of the 45% of Americans who use an artificial—I call it fake—tree. It was still a joy to decorate, but we missed something more than the smell; we missed the process. The tree is a perfect shape, no trip to the farm/Home Depot needed, lights are already strung, there’s no water to spill and no mess to clean up.

Sometimes I think we opt for an artificial life over a real one because it avoids the mess and the pain. If we can control the environment we might have a beautiful decoration, but we miss the memories that are made in the process. Life is not just about how everything appears to be, however it may be a lot more about how everything has come to be.

So I’ll look for other Christmas traditions that involve a process and challenge to cultivate memories and stories with my family. And I’m grateful that God doesn’t simply take the easy and artificial road when it comes to building my life, but that He cares enough to bring me along through a process, that, while at the time might seem challenging, in the end results in memories, stories, and real life.