This Christmas is special. We have a student from Sweden who has joined our family for the school year. Her name is Celina. She is sweet, beautiful and loves details. Mid November she walked into the family room with a beautiful gift in her hand. She had clearly mastered the art of a beautiful package. The box was wrapped in glittered paper with gold curling ribbon and a matching tag. The gift was for Christmas, and it was for me. I was so touched. Our Christmas tree was not up yet so I put the gift on the mantel so that everyone could admire the pretty package.
Thanksgiving night the kids were full of turkey, ham and holiday cheer. They began to beg, "Can we put up the Christmas tree?" A couple of years ago I got tired of tromping through snow with wind beating our faces to drag home a wet tree that shed needles and had to have a thousand lights strung on it. We purchased a plastic tree from Lowes (much to the disappointment of my children who loved the tree farm tradition followed by the once a year lunch at McDonalds.) The only upside to the fake tree is that it is stored in my basement so we hauled it up on Thanksgiving night. We had a wonderful time decorating and even put a medium size tree in Celina's room which she thought was magical.
The day after Thanksgiving is of coarse BLACK FRIDAY. I was still putting finishing touches on the house and cleaning up what feels like a mega disaster from unpacking all of the Christmas boxes the night before. Celina was eager to experience all things American, including the chaos of crazy Christmas shoppers. My daughter Brooke was on board as she thinks shopping is always a good idea. I however, had no intention of going out of the house on this day. I was standing at the kitchen sink doing dishes pondering the whole shopping frenzy. I decided that this was my moment to set things right in the world. My family was all lounging around the family room so I had a captive audience. Let me set the stage for what was brewing in my mind...
Every year at Christmas I wrestle with the materialism and excess that comes along with the holidays. I wonder how we've gotten to this place. I find it fascinating that when God planned the arrival of Christ He picked the simplest, poorest setting possible. A common stable. We've taken this day and flipped it. It has become the day of wearing sequins and sparkle and piles and piles of gifts. This year as I reflected on this I was in rare form. For a couple of months I have been un cluttering my life in pursuit of freedom from the weight of so much stuff in our lives. I have meticulously combed through all of our objects throwing things away, donating, and selling. I have literally removed truckloads of stuff from our house. It has been mentally exhausting, time intensive and a process I hope to not repeat... ever. It has been like running a marathon and the thought of more stuff coming into my house was enough to make me break. I stepped up on my soap box and articulated the great questions that were tumbling around in my head. "Why," I asked "would I buy more legos when every day I step on the plastic blocks that cover our basement floor!" "Why,would I bring more stuff in when we are still suffocating under the weight of so much? How could we expect to handle more when we can not manage what we already have?" I built up a great crescendo with my final point,"Why do we buy things for each other that hang in the closet with tags or end up being donated? I would rather just SHOP FOR MYSELF!"Yes". "Well put", said the chorus in my head. And then I turned around.
Blank, pale faces and wide eyes stared back at me. If joy had been sitting in a glass on my table I had just taken the glass and dumped it on the floor. Celina meekly stood up and walked towards my perfectly wrapped gold and glitter package. "Do you want me to take this back?" she asked. My heart sunk. The first gift of Christmas had been carefully chosen for me. In my moment of only thinking about myself I had vomited darkness all over a room that had been filled with little twinkling Christmas lights and holiday cheer. I apologized and back peddled, but it has taken a couple of weeks for the dust to settle from my explosion of words. At first my husband declared that he was listening and that he would support my position by not exchanging any gifts this year and only participating in things that had a singular focus on remembering Jesus' birthday. I HAD CRUSHED CHRISTMAS.
I did lots and lots of thinking. I revisited the beginning traditions of gift giving and I prayed that God would show my heart what I needed to see. I was reminded that the greatest gift ever given was Jesus. God is our ultimate example of generosity. I remembered the Magi who, "opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh."(Matthew 1:11) I studied St. Nicholas who gave generously so that poor girls with little dowry would not be found in desperate places. I listened to Celina who is away from home at this most special time of year. Part of what reminds her of the love of home is the traditions of advent with small gifts each day and Christmas Eve gift exchanges with family. I have watched her face light up as boxes and envelopes arrive from across the ocean. I am blessed to have packages under my tree with ribbon that says, "God Jul", "Merry Christmas" in Swedish. There is something of identity wrapped up in the music and traditions that makes us who we are. I owed it to her and to my husband and my kids to make Christmas magical. Like never before I have researched and shopped and carefully wrapped. I've not just crossed names off my list as gifts are purchased, but I have savored the process of really thinking about what brings JOY to each of the people that I share gifts with. This is part of the process of coming to a healthy place with how I relate to stuff. Generosity is at the core of who I want to become and of who Jesus is. Receiving with gentleness and grace allows a giver to be blessed as well.
I am no longer hyperventilating as the pile of gifts grows under my tree. I am instead recognizing that gifts are a language of love. My heart is full.
