checking my privilege
Marcus and I aren't big on decorating the exterior of our house for Christmas -- mostly out of laziness -- but I'm adamant that our Christmas tree be placed in front of a window in our living room. There's something that I think is so cozy and lovely about driving or walking past a house, and seeing a glowing Christmas tree inside.
And so, this year, like every other year, we (over) decorated our tree and put it in front of the window. With extra lights. Sometimes I go outside at night or in the early morning, just to see the lights in our house after dark.
This afternoon, I walked through our living room and noticed that even though the sun was streaming through our windows, the lights were still bright on our tree (I leave our tree on all day long). I couldn't help it: I smiled. I love how our living room looks at Christmastime.
And then suddenly, I had this thought:
How privileged am I, that I can have such a bright show of the faith we practice in our home visible from the street, and not worry about any reprisals? No one is going to egg our home, or vandalize it, or worse, target our family because of it.
And then I got mad.
How ridiculous is it that I even entertain this thought in the 21st century, in what is touted as ostensibly the freest country in the world?
I've been crazy busy working on sprucing up the site, and getting my business ready for 2016. I just thought I'd pop in for a quick, random, yuletide wish for peace on Earth and goodwill to all -- every single one of us who share this big blue marble.