There were a couple of years, well, maybe one - fifteen years ago, when we decorated with Christmas lights on our house. The putting up part isn't so bad - find a nice day and just do it. It's the taking down part I'm not fond of. January isn't known for "nice" days. Or at least what passes for nice in January is not the kind of weather I want to pry frozen strands of lights off the facade.
I am so grateful that others are the not as winter-phobic as I am - or if they are, they like Christmas lights more then they detest January. Either way, I frequently take the long route home from work just to drive through the neighborhoods and view the lights. I like the white twinklings ones and the colored racing ones and even the yards where it looks like the elves upchucked all over them. From classy to tacky, I love Christmas lights! They make me feel so Christmasy, even though I am still bah-humbug at actively participating in the electric fun.
It would be easy to say that the lights remind me of the light of the world born in Bethlehem. Easy and kind of a cop out. There are a multitude of lights and only one Christ child. However, there were a multitude of the heavenly hosts singing Alleluia, announcing the greatest gift of all.
I wonder how many a multitude really is. But if there was one angel for every light just in my neighborhood, and I think that would be a very conservative estimate - just think how their song would reverberate! Now that would, indeed, be Joy to the World!
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