I have a confession. I love a good Hallmark movie. My husband has walked with me through this for 27 years (consecutively, as he reminds me tongue in cheek), and we are still thriving, though check-ins are often required.
For me, a Hallmark-type movie reminds me of the joy of falling in love, the moment we catch someone’s eye, the spark of hand-holding, the fun of carefree dates. When I watch this type of movie or read this kind of book, I know there is going to be a happily ever after and really at not so high a price for any character to pay.
We’ve made family Bingo cards knowing the different tropes and plot elements. Watching with me has become an offering from my children as they smile and check off boxes on their boards or in their minds. However, for me and for many, I presume, the fictional world of a Hallmark-type movie can be both heartwarming and dangerous.
Corrie ten Boom in her novel “The Hiding Place” reminds us that “Comparison is the thief of joy. “The danger of a Hallmark movie, and why a confession is needed here, is that there have been times I have tried to force my life to look like one and the results never measure up.
A recent case in point is an annual pumpkin festival I have longed to attend.
This was my year. We had no surgeries, no work trips, sporting events or dance. The night was clear, and I was going to walk hand in hand through the pumpkin festival, sipping my pumpkin chai latte. Bright leaves were going to dance beautifully through the air and we would eat all things pumpkin for just a day: pumpkin bread, pumpkin chili, pumpkin doughnuts, all while holding hands with my beloved and stealing a smooch in the middle of a pumpkin patch.
This was my Hallmark movie dream coming to fruition. My family fully supported me in this endeavor. They helped me choose just the right fall outfit. My husband took the afternoon off from work, filling the car with gas, grabbing cash for parking just in case.
They gathered in the car and had a playlist just for the hour drive. Outfits were planned just in case the opportunity for the perfect family fall picture presented itself. They were prepared to make this moment happen for me.
It might surprise you, but the event did not live up to my expectations. Instead of picturesque pumpkin farms and town squares with couples holding hands and a light autumn breeze making you snuggle into your puffy vest, blocks of the town were filled with carnival games, blaring music, food you’d see at any summer fair, and the exhaust from all the generators was overpowering.
Crowds made it so we could not hold hands and navigate where to go. We divided up and the teens went to grab some food.
As I stood in line for the pumpkin doughnuts and pie, which was a must-do event for me, I looked around and realized that I was not enjoying myself. I started to get frustrated and anxious, thinking once again my quintessential, joy-filled moment was lost to me. As I stood in line, I said a silent prayer for God to help me check my emotions and see this through His eyes.
When everyone met up, I think they took one look at my frazzled and disappointed eyes, which were trying so hard to be cheerful, and hatched a plan. They knew me. “Which way should we go next?” I asked in a way too cheerful voice. “Let’s go this way.”
They agreed and we headed back the way we came. As my husband gently guided me to the car without an “I’m sorry” or an “Are you OK?,” I realized once again how well he knew me.
As the kids popped in the car without asking why were we leaving, they laughed about the weird things they saw, and we passed around the pumpkin doughnuts. We stopped at a Chipotle, and I grabbed dinner. Because there was extra time, we dropped off our youngest at her dance practice that she was going to miss if we had stayed.
Amid the discussion and laughter in the car, I pondered quietly how present God was. How beautiful this moment was, to be known and supported by my family. My heart filled at their simple but genuine efforts to give me this long-anticipated silly desire of my heart.
This moment will forever be a core memory of me, a new verb if you will in Eberhard family lore, the humility of knowing oneself and being known. It’s called “pumpkin festivaling.”
My family knows my tendency to try to make Hallmark moments out of our big family events. Opening Christmas presents, it’s a mad house of joy. Family dinner, so much talking that it’s easier to get up and grab your own salt than to ask for it to be passed down the table. Family soccer games, board game night, bonfires … there’s such a beauty in accepting who we are as a family and seeing God present in it all! That is where the true beauty lies.
Perhaps take a moment and learn from my tendency to go “pumpkin festivaling” family events. Join me in living and celebrate the beautiful life we have been given. Let’s create our own Hallmark family movie, just with a more realistic twist.
Thank you, Jesus, for the wisdom to know that living fully in reality far outweighs any comparison.