Wrestling The Tree

Wrestling the Tree

Every year, envisioning a tall, fresh-smelling fir tucked in the corner of my living room, I do serious recon on where the most reasonably priced, healthy specimen can be found and make the annual expedition to the tree lot. Then, after looking at and handling no less than a dozen viable candidates, I select one tree to take home with me. I choose a lot that will trim the trunk, hoist it to the top of my car, and tie it down, but after that it’s a do-it-yourself deal all the way home and beyond.

At some point every year, I also acknowledge this universal truth: setting up a Christmas tree is no one-man (or in my case, one-woman) job. I could ask for help. But there’s something about the maddening me-and-the-tree duel that suckers me in almost every time. I see no reason why I shouldn’t be able to outmaneuver and outmuscle the process and the tree, whose size I almost always regret as soon as I’ve gotten it home.

I wrestle a Christmas tree only once a year. But it’s really about the tree and me all year long. The tree I wrestle daily is my own cross, which I’ve been commanded to take up and carry with me, allowing myself, my wants, my will to die. The cross is a tree I both love and struggle against. I love its complex beauty, and I struggle against its simple invitation. I love its power and struggle against its grace. It’s not easy, this wrestling with the tree.

I may resist much-needed help with my Christmas tree. But I’d be a fool to resist much-needed help with my cross. (Even Jesus had help to carry his.) And thankfully, when I’ve overestimated my own ability or strength or resolve, or when the whole cross-carrying process has left me exhausted and scraped up and scarred, the one who’s gone before me sees my struggle and says with patience and empathy, “Won’t you let me help you with that?”

I will. Oh yes, I will.

He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross.

Colossians 2:13-14, NIV