A 'Wise Men's Christmas'

Epiphany: only one of the many beauties of practicing the Catholic faith.   Observed on January 6 of each year, the thirteenth day following the 'twelve days of Christmas', epiphany celebrates the arrival of the three wise men who came from the east bearing gifts for the newborn king.  The scriptures seem to indicate (according to my dear Baptist friend) that, in actuality, it was approximately two years after the infant's birth that the wise men arrived at the baby's creche with the finest gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  The birth of Christ and their desire to pay homage was of great enough significance and import that the wise men committed themselves to the long and, imaginably, arduous journey.

The visual preparations on the exterior of our home began well before December twenty-fifth but progress was slow and deliberate.  This year's decorations didn't go up in unison but were more an experimentation in a balance of my vision and Mike's willingness to fulfill it.

Icicle lights illuminating the full expanse of the front of our home were merely a memory of yesteryear as the effort required called for a much younger and agile 'installer' willing to risk the climb and traverse on our steep hip roof.  As much as I loved the twinkle of an abundance of white lights I, too, had conceded that the cost was potentially much too high.  A replacement 'Mike Chisum' would be impossible to find; of exceptional quality to begin with I'm just not convinced that another like him could be found.  So, the iridescent, lighted snowflakes were hung above the front windows accompanied by the new additions: a three-foot, silver tinsel tree placed to the right of the front door, one strand of hanging snowflakes spanning the front porch, snowflake stakes across the shrubbery beds to each side of our entry steps, net lights covering three of our four ball shrubs (since the fourth box of net lights was buried somewhere in the garage), and a stack of three colorful, plastic, bow-topped Christmas gifts, all aglow with bright white lights.  The stringing of battery powered lights (which were eventually replaced with a strand of plug in lights) on my glittery, new door wreath of a muted lime green with red berries, and the outdoor lighting was complete.  All these would serve my need for cheerful illumination.  Simultaneously, the danger to my beloved husband was greatly reduced assuring another year of wedded bliss.  The ease of placing our Christmas flag, poinsettia coir mat, hanging garden Angel 'Welcome' plaque and four window wreaths accomplished days before the lighting, I now had camera in hand ready to document the arrangement to be duplicated for many Christmases yet to come.  A couple of subsequent additions to my outside decor and the exterior of our home proclaimed the Christmas season.

My sweet little Italian Mama always reminds me that it's 'what's on the inside' that really counts.  Something can appear beautiful from the outside but closer examination might reveal an interior of striking contrast.  In our home this proved true in the visual sense; the living room, entry into our abode, which served as the heart of our yearly Christmas celebration lay in an array of "organized chaos".  Difficult for anyone but myself to interpret, I knew exactly to what this mishmash of displaced objects would eventually acquiesce.

Undaunted by what the appearance might indicate I was determined that, regardless of the date, Christmas would come to the Chisum household.   The quest then moved to the interior of our home where the real story of Christmas 2011 and my personal journey to the creche of the baby Jesus actually begins.

And so, as we opened the 2011 Advent Season, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I was fairly certain that, in my heart and home, this would be a 'Wise Men's Christmas'.  While my heart prepared and ultimately rejoiced on the appointed day of his birth, I felt at peace that my personal journey to the actual presence of the baby Jesus was far from over.  The journey of the wise men to find the certitude and confidence that arriving at the creche, albeit two years after his birth, would bring now serves as the inspiration for my own personal journey.