A Christmas Miracle!

Well, I drug out all the Christmas lights, plugged them in, and…are you ready for this? They all worked! If I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’. I even shook the living bejeesus out of them to make certain they weren’t going to deviously wait until hung before blacking out. None did. I couldn’t believe it. And I’m quite sure the owner of the hardware store where I purchase my lights each year won’t believe it either. In fact I’ll probably be receiving a letter of condolences sometime next week, thinking I or a direct family member either died or is on the ragged edge. What other explanation would there be for me not making my annual visit? Claiming that every string of lights worked two years in a row is crazy talk. Even I know that. I can remember a few years back when a man tried to tell me all his Christmas lights worked, not just two, but three years in a row. I would have called him a bald faced pagan liar if we hadn’t have been in church at the time…and he wasn’t our minister. And how my wife deciphered the word bullshit out of a simple cough, is beyond me.

If one miracle wasn’t enough, I was given a second. Not wanting to drag out the extension ladder and begin the drudgery of hanging Christmas lights along our home’s eaves, I sucked in a breath of courage and confronted my wife with an idea. Now it must be understood that in our home any idea that is not of her invention is without debate the most head up your ass idea ever expressed. Of course she doesn’t verbally say that, but her crossed arms and cold stare clearly reveals the same thought. And, yes, looking back on most of my ideas, my head was up my ass. But that’s beside the point. Anyway, I confronted my wife and suggested that instead of putting lights up around the eaves of the house, I would take those same lights, outline the front door, and both garage doors, and then take the remainder and make a lighting extravaganza out of the rockery, shrubs, and cherry tree in the front yard.

I held my breath, my hands ready to spring in defense of my Adam’s apple. But she smiled and said,”That sounds like a good idea.”

For a moment I stood in stunned silence. I didn’t know whether to bow and give thanks for her gracious gesture, triumphantly pump my fist in the air, or just quietly walk away. I chose the latter. After many years of marriage I know when not to push my luck. But there would be no more climbing ladders. Everything could be done at ground level. And it was. The lights that would have circled the roof now circled the rockery, and filled its floor The shrubs and cherry tree dance with lights. After dark the wife and I walked across the street for a panoramic look. She was pleased.

Okay, these were not miracles in the true sense of the word. But they certainly weren’t expected. So simply because of their rarity I’ll call them minor miracles.

But I pray that I never forget the real miracle of Christmas. Christmas is the day set aside as the day Jesus Christ was born. I’m quite sure December 25th was not the exact day.  And to be honest I don’t care. The fact that God Almighty made the decision to be born a mortal amongst His rag-tag bunch of misfit creations , eventually was sacrificed for our sins and rose again is what is truly important. And on Christmas day I will wish Him a happy birthday, and a heart-felt thank you.


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