Receive

So the holiday stress has set in and I'm realizing this because I'm binge eating Rolos wrapped in red and green foil driving down the road. I'm coping with the trip I just made to Target which is supposed to be therapeutic under normal circumstances, but it's insanely crowded on a Wednesday night. I'm wading through the crowd for shoes to go with my sons outfit for his Christmas program and matching accessories for my daughters outfit and snacks for their class Christmas parties and teacher gifts and and our own kids presents (presents that I will later buy online because I vowed not to brave a crowded store around Christmas time because that is asking for stress, yet here I am) All through the store, I'm subconsciously thinking of this dinner and that gathering and my mile long to do list. Did I mention my oldest daughter's birthday party is this week? She's 11 years old,  how is she 11? She's one those lucky kids born within a few days of the 25th. To top it all off, I'm pregnant and tired and whiney. I'll need a nap before I can even finish writing this.

I tell myself every year I will not get stressed out because I cannot be divided into more than one piece no matter how much I would like to be. There is still only one me that can only do so many things at once. At Christmas more than any time ever, why is it so hard to just be in one place at one time and just enjoy it? Everyone is in hurry up mode, everyone is rushed and stressed and looking overspent. You can just see the blankness in peoples eyes as they dart from store to store, speeding through one lot to the next. It's that phased out look...going going gone. Just like our money. This feeling of being spent, it's contagious, have you noticed?

How can one keep Christmas simple? Is this even possible? There are a few things I try to do to help cut down on stress:

Online shopping? Check.

Minimize the amount of commitments you make? Check.

Plan ahead, make lists? Check.

Keep your eye on the prize: remember the reason for the season? Ugh.

No matter how I might try the stress always seems to creep in. The philosophy to a simple Christmas should be the same as any other time we want to enjoy life more and stress less. Slow down. Take time to stop and smell the roses. Take joy in the ordinary. Do less in the name of wholeness. Strip life down to what really matters and focus in on that. At Christmas time this minimalist philosophy seems next to impossible. All the hype can sweep you away before you even put up the tree. 

Before I get too Scrooge like, let's back track to that almost Christmas birthday 11 years ago. I remember I was about to burst with expectancy. I was scared to death not knowing what the future held and how this little life would make her way into the world.  A part of me has always identified with Mary, Jesus' mom, because I think she must have felt the same. Alone and ashamed; silently judged as a too young mother yet feeling like I held a secret inside that was both sacred and full of new life.

But once that little baby came, nothing else mattered. There was not a single present under the tree. I don't even think there was a tree. No big meals or parties. Yet there was so much joy and raw emotion. Celebration and hope. I was left wondering how such a regularly dysfunctional person could ever do anything to receive this amazing gift. Come to find it's grace, just pure life giving grace.

Maybe that's the point of all of it. All of our effort in trying to create a perfect Christmas fails every time leaving us overwhelmed and overspent; reminding us of our humanity. Our American culture says more, more, more. We train our kids from early on. We have so much yet so little at the same time. We lose sight of life abundantly because we are too busy trying to create our own life with the tangible. Then there's that little baby, who came in the humblest of ways, reminding us that less is more and that He is the gift if only we will receive. He offers things we could never imagine or create of our own resources. Things like peace and joy despite painful circumstances. Things like hope when there's no light we can see no matter how hard we squint to see it at the end of the tunnel. Things like life, a full life, where our heart is drawn to things that really count. We've heard it said, he is both the gift and the giver. 

Yet there's no guilt here from the giver. Nothing expected in return. You don't have to show up anywhere or give a reciprocal gift or even get dressed up.  It's already been given, all that's needed of you is a simple, "Yes. I want that." It seems too easy, right? Too good to be true. Just a simple yes; like a child shredding through the wrapping paper experiencing the simple unadulterated joy of receiving.

So as we count down the days to Christmas and the stress mounts I will participate in all the normal holiday happenings. I will go to Christmas plays and parties and dinners. I will wrap presents and unwrap presents. I will cook and craft and check things off the list.  I will hide that stupid Elf one. More. Time. (really I love you Elf, but creatively placing you in a different position 25 times? You're not all that magical.) I will drink cocoa and listen to carols and watch all our favorite Christmas movies.

excuse my back row blurry Christmas program pic :)

But all the while, I'll try to remember the night that a child was born and the world held still. I'll try to remember the child within who just needs to receive and say: "Yes, I want that."

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas,

Jenna