A Smudged Camera Lens

A Smudged Camera Lens
The View From Granny’s Back Porch
Written by Joy Mathis Chadwick

It’s a cold and blustery day here in the Ozarks this morning; much too cold for the back porch. As I sit and just think about all that has yet to be done to finalize Christmas, I think the best thing to do right now is just grab a cup of coffee and look through some old Christmas pictures; housework can always wait, right? My favorite Christmas carols are playing on Pandora; there’s a warm fire going, and Leo (my dog) is fast asleep by my feet; it’s the perfect time to revisit Christmases past.

The first Christmas picture I came across was the year I was maybe 4 or 5 years old. I vividly remember every detail; it’s all etched on my heart. I remember feeling like the most special kid in the world. The worn linoleum floor and the lack of decorations on the scraggly cedar tree paint the real picture. I still don’t understand how my parents were able to scrape up enough money for Christmas presents that year, but whatever they had to do without, they made sure that I had a day to remember. I could probably write a whole book about this picture alone.

Then there’s the picture of my mom, my mother-in-law (Lois), and my boys. Those two precious ladies, though no longer here, are with us in spirit every Christmas. I borrow many of their traditions that mean pure comfort to our little family. Lois would always have punch and orange slice cake; my mom would always make peanut butter balls, and the older she got the bigger the peanut butter balls got. I treasure the Christmas ornaments that used to hang on their trees; their chipped and worn serving dishes are some of my most prized possessions. My hubby and I have no siblings; our parents became best friends and we always spent every holiday together. Oh how I miss that.

There’s a blurred and shadowy picture made years ago at a Christmas gathering with my extended family. I remember how my teenage sons absolutely did not want to go, but now we reminisce about what a good time that was, especially now that so many of those we loved so dearly are no longer with us. The families have grown and the kids now have kids of their own. We all acted like we hated having our pictures made, but what a precious memory.

My most favorite Christmas picture is the one of my sons when they were 2 and 3 years old. It’s out of focus; Santa had no mouth; the little one is screaming and fighting to get away – but his socks didn’t slouch one bit. This is one of the few pictures I leave out year round.

And the last picture I came across was made many years ago when several of my cousins and I had a girls’ night after a family Christmas gathering. We went to a tree lighting at the courthouse square in my hometown; we bought matching pajamas; we consumed massive amounts of comfort food and talked all night long. The picture is out of focus and blurry; we all look pretty goofy; there is no known explanation for how my teeth looked in this picture. Yet this is still one of my favorite pictures – not because of the way we looked, but because of how happy we were to share this one special night together.

It’s a good thing that my Christmas memories aren’t completely tied to a picture, because the only thing worse than my technology skills is my photography skills. Most of our pictures are blurry, off-center, unposed, chaotic. That’s pretty much the way our life has been, if truth be known. Yet I can look at those poorly posed photographs, those pictures that are blurred, those pictures where no one had their eyes open – and I still see the beauty of the memory, the beauty of the possibilities, the beauty of the love represented by just one second in time. We never had the luxury of affording professional photographs when our kids were little, our photographs weren’t staged, using the fancy lens that made everything seem idyllic. And as I sort through the boxes of old pictures from many years ago, it doesn’t matter to my heart at all that every picture was unfocused or blurry or just plain bad – it matters that we had a moment in time together with people we loved.

And then I wonder about the “lens” through which Mary saw her son, Jesus. There’s something magical that happens to most moms when we see our newborn for the very first time. Our baby’s whole future flashes before our eyes for one split second, as we examine every finger, every toe and compare eyes and mouth and hairline to every relative from past generations. We see our baby with eyes of pure love and instantly pin our hopes and dreams on this child for a life of plenty of all things that matter. Did Mary do this? We tend to glamorize the nativities we see in stores; when we tell the Christmas story to our children and grandchildren, we tend to leave out the realities of the dirty hay and the donkey poop and the lack of clean sheets and room service. We focus on the bright star that beckoned the shepherds, the decadently dressed wise men and kings with their lavish gifts, and the well-behaved and well-groomed animals. But there was so much reality and I wonder if Mary was already dreading The Day that would come when she would have to surrender her son to the hands of those who would take his life. I wonder what kind of lens Mary used.

And of course I then wonder what kind of lens through which God sees us. But He doesn’t use a lens at all, does He? He sees us for who we really, truly are – all the flaws, all the imperfections, all the hurt, all the ugly; yet He keeps looking until he sees the one speck from the darkest corners of our dirty hearts that wants to connect with Someone more than ourselves. He doesn’t have to filter what He sees; He just loves us the way we are.

In spite of all the craziness in our world this year, let’s make this Christmas matter more than ever before. Let’s put away our cameras with the smudged lenses and reach out with love, total unfiltered love. Let’s reach out to those who we may have deemed unloveable. Let’s reach out to those who have shattered out hearts. Let’s just start by reaching out and I’m pretty sure that God will send us in the right direction; after all, He sent a star to guide the shepherds; all they had to do was follow His lead.

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
Luke 2: 11-14 KJV