Written By: Marianne Paulus

Narrated By: Kara Lea Kennedy

As I do every year, I recently decorated our home for Christmas. I’ve always done so with great anticipation of our lovely house after I am finished. But this year, nostalgia and sadness also came over me in the process.

In years past, Christmas decorating was a family affair. My husband, Bob, would help me get the tree set up and untangle the web of Christmas lights (as he still does). But then the three boys and I would decorate the tree while listening to the same vinyl records that recalled and celebrated the Christmas story each year in our home. The task also included hot chocolate, laughter, and tripping over one another as we did what needed to be done.

But seasons change. Sons grow up, leave, and buy homes of their own to decorate. So, the job of decorating falls on Bob and me. And we now have a “decorator” tree instead of the cherished collection of homemade ornaments, craft fair treasures and other assorted Christmas baubles. Some of the same songs wash over me, but now they come from Pandora. When I’m done, it still looks beautiful, but then I have to shake off the tinge of melancholy from remembering Christmases past.

One recent morning, I read Isaiah 43:18-19:

“Do not call to mind the former things. Or ponder things of the past. Behold, I will do something new. Now it will spring forth: Will you not be aware of it?”

As I read that passage, I wondered if looking back through the lens of loss caused me to miss out on the new thing. Was I overlooking the joy and the richness of the present because I was so locked into the memories of what was? Could I perhaps create and broaden new circles of Christmas celebration and fellowship? Could we enjoy the delight of beautiful new things?

These questions brought new levels of gratitude for the now of my life, but also caused me to look for the new—in relationships, opportunities, and other new things that could be added to it. Perhaps by letting go of the former things, I can enjoy each moment that comes to our home from the new things.

Marianne Paulus is the mother of three sons and grandmother to nine. She has two college degrees she has never been paid to use. You can read about that story and others in her memoir, Intersections: Stories of Faith When God Intersected a Life. She and her husband Bob work together with their church’s marriage and family ministry from their home in Bedford, Texas.

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