Vacant. Empty. Impotent. Frivolous. Unfulfilling.
Is this the only Christmas you are experiencing?
Brian & I took an evening to go & gloriously wander through the vast array of lights (over 5 million) this week at Garvan Woodland Gardens. From the alabaster Chinese lanterns, to the origami cranes and the ethereal woodland fairy floating amongst the stars over circling mushrooms, we were absolutely moved to playful, childlike wonder.
We crossed the moon bridge from where we caught sight of a massive water dragon, swam through lighted jellyfish, meandered through elaborate snowflake lit forests, marched past wooden soldiers, and snuck around lighted elves “throwing” gifts into the back of Santa’s sleigh.
We walked past an extravagant train display with multiple models, including Santa’s line, Thomas & even the Polar Express, blowing through tiny, softly lit, snow draped villages & over truss & bridge.
So much festivity! And yet somehow, something was missing. My heart was searching back through all we’d artistically experienced, cataloging each display… where was He?
My heart now began to ache. Where was He? Had we missed one little corner, even a tiny nook of a nativity?
Oh! Look!! The octagonal pavilion! Why that would be splendid! An absolutely idyllic Nativity scene with its open Timbers & yes, I could now see simple strands of falling star lights hung under the eaves. How like a shepherd who’d heard an angelic choir & now set off to discover the proclaimed Messiah I became! My step quickened, perhaps the indescribable gift will be snuggly tucked here!
Like a child on Christmas morning eager for her gifts, I peeked past the crafted wooden pine trees of aesthetically pleasing alternating heights in hope of finding the Holy Family & their traditional entourage; a shepherd (perhaps 2), a lamb, donkey, ox, & three wise men holding their gifts.
My face fell. Nothing. How?! This place was sheer perfection for a simple station to pause & reflect, yet despite the vacancy, apparently there was room in neither the inn, nor even the stable here at Garvan.
The ache in my heart continued in stark contrast to the teens with their friends giggling & draping themselves over & around a splendidly posed & inviting Santa figurine on a bench for that perfect photo worthy of their social platform of choice.
My heart was moving beyond ache & into heavy. The experience was enchanting & yet… hauntingly empty.
Meaningless, meaningless one Ecclesiastical writer had surmised. Yes, I share your sentiment, fine sir. I am amused & entertained, but where is the source that will remain with me when all levity of life has dissipated? These diversions are at best fleeting.
I am reminded of the ponderings of wise men, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose, and we have come to worship him.” Matthew‬ â€2‬:â€2‬ â€
Yes. Where?!? And I’m reminded not of something that I saw, but something that I’d heard as we watched the whirling & twirling acre of animated lights surrounding the easily 2 story main Christmas Tree.
“O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny;
From depths of hell Thy people save,
And give them victory o'er the grave.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.”
This. THIS is what Christmas brought to us; Freedom from Satan’s tyranny. Has this reminder ever been more needed in our war torn world?
And I wonder, is anyone else listening?
Don’t get me wrong. Garvan Woodland Gardens is absolutely stunning. But what has brought me lasting peace is better represented in this field a short distance away.
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