It’s only the first week of December and I can already feel the pace of life picking-up. I find myself waking up and immediately wondering Should we do a Christmas letter? Can we even afford gifts this year? (We have two sons in college and a June wedding coming up!) How about a holiday gathering? I tend to have unrealistic expectations of myself, perhaps particularly around the holidays. I want to make things beautiful. I want to serve. I want to give. And I do but I don’t always achieve balance. More times than not, I push too hard, for too long and end up exhausted and resentful.
Not this year.
We may or may not get a Christmas card out. We’re not doing a big party and gift giving is probably going to be relegated to a few, home-made items. (And I realize it’s much easier for us to make this call given that our sons are older and mostly out of the house.)
At this stage of life, I’m hoping that I actually remember the hard-earned lessons. I hope that I have enough ego strength to not bow down to the idols of commercialism. (Speaking for our household here, do we really need any more stuff when our basement desperately needs to be cleared out?) I’m hoping that I can get up from my desk and pay attention to the people around me who might need to be listened to or cared for.
Last night, I had emailed Christopher around 5:00 saying I was going to need to work after dinner. Five minutes later the doorbell rang. I sighed and hesitated putting my computer on sleep, but did. It was a young man who lived with us for a bit early in the fall. Though it would have been easy for me to chat for ten minutes and then make clear overtures that I had work to do, I changed gears (never easy for me) and invited him to have dinner with us. What followed was an hour-long conversation about life, faith, and relationships that I would have missed had I assumed getting this newsletter out last night was more important than being present to him. (I’m sure many of you were deeply disappointed to wake up this morning and discover this newsletter was not in your inbox. Not!)
I want to encourage you to be on the lookout for these encounters in the next few weeks. Holidays are often stressful and depressing especially for those who are recently widowed, experiencing long-term health issues, or who suffer from clinical depression. Conversely, don’t be afraid to disappoint others—even your own kids—by saying, “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” (That being anything from bringing two dozen cookies to your kid’s classroom, to attending a recital, to taking part in another secret Santa.) We actually serve our kids when we teach them how to navigate disappointment.
The good news of this season is that unto us, a child is born. That his light has come to guide and lead us.
To get you moving in that direction, I’d love to share two of my favorite Christmas songs: Wexford Carol with Yo-Yo Ma, and Alison Kraus, and Let All Mortal Flesh by Fernando Ortega. If you are able, close your eyes and listen to them back to back. Take some deep breaths and invite God to be with you. Emmanuel.
Only a few recent posts for this newsletter.
Over at Elsa Morgan’s blog exploring the power of a holy no.
And over at The Mudroom asking what it means to have integrity regarding racial reconcilliation.
We have no speaking engagements this month so I’ll pick back up with this in next month’s newsletter.
To read the remainder of this newsletter including links to my book giveaways, click here. You have to subscribe to my monthly newsletter to be considered for the book giveaways—and you have to live in the US because postage overseas is expensive.
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