Opt Out

 I’ve sat here for weeks with writers block. There’s nothing in particular that comes to mind to write about. Because anything that comes to mind makes me tired.

Let this be your annual reminder to start your Vitamin D regimen. In MN we don’t see enough sunshine. By December we’re tired, sluggish and ready to hibernate until March. 

Let’s add the hustle and bustle of an extended holiday season, poor diet choices, unlimited sugar and too much alcohol to the mix—because, hey, why not?!

No wonder I’m tired. I know I’m not alone. So many of you seem to track right alongside me with life. That’s why I feel it’s crucial to share—so you know you aren’t alone. 

I start out on November 1st excited for all the season has to offer. I absolutely love Thanksgiving! I love cooking! I love having a house full of family and friends. 

I enjoy getting our tree. I enjoy decorations. I agonize over gifts for everyone. I want everyone to feel as though I carefully selected the perfect gift for them. This is the beginning of the end every year. 

In a matter of weeks, I go from Mrs Claus to the Grinch. It’s every single year. The 8 weeks from Halloween to New Year’s Day wear me out. 

There are decisions to make, presents to wrap, cookies to bake, celebrations to attend—or not—because you’re too busy. More gifts to buy, more groceries to buy, more food to prepare. It’s expensive, even if you’ve saved. It’s tiring, even if you enjoy it. 

The decorations are magical and then suddenly they are suffocating and I want my house back. 

This post, much like my Christmas brain, is scattered and crazy! 

I think it’s ok that I feel both things: beauty and chaos. 

For me, Christmas is a celebration of the birth of my Savior, Christ Jesus. For some of you, it’s an opportunity to gather with loved ones and share a meal, some games and gifts. 

Somewhere along the way, and it happens every stinking year, the simplicity of that baby lying in the manger—the one that came to save the world—gets lost. 

He gets lost in my attempt to make Christmas magical for my family. He gets lost amidst peppermint cookies, beef brisket and bows. Apple products and Nike. Stockings and TV screens. 

The very things, that are supposed to make it magical, are stealing my peace. A peace that only Jesus can bring. I know this. And yet, year after year, I find myself feeling as though I need to do more. Buy more, cook more, wrap more, do more. 

In this case, I think less is more. 

My friend Cindy, has embraced simplicity. With adult children and grandchildren that are shared by in-laws, she’s pared back. She makes wild rice soup, a crusty baguette and some wine. The menu, simple. The company, perfect. 

Looking back, I have very few core memories that involve gifts—my first bottle of perfume, a chenille bathrobe when I was 12. The rest, all memories of people, laughter and games. 

I think it’s time to start taking lessons from the veterans. The moms who have raised their children to adulthood and realize the only thing that matters is the people around the tree. 

Jesus came to save the world. The least I can do is slow down and remember that. And so it goes, when you know better, you can do better. I know better. It’s time to do better. Opt out.