It's the day after Christmas (well, technically the day after the day after, since it is 3am, but I haven't gone to bed yet, so we'll just stick with the day after). And I'm glad Christmas is over.
I have spent so much time and energy into this Christmas that now (finally!) my heart feels lighter. I know I put the pressure on myself. I need to set my limits and not try to do everything I feel like I need to do, but I did accomplish quite a bit. Even so, I feel like this Christmas was a failure.
Damn it, Satan. Get thee hence!
The adversary wants me to feel like I failed. Maybe I did--there were several things that didn't get done, like my gifts for my brother Dave and his family. My plans for them were a bit ambitious, and slightly hinged upon their coming to Utah for Christmas. They didn't, and I just ran out of time to finish my projects and get them shipped (#ChristmasFail). So I sent them an e-gift card: a total cop-out, but the best I could do at the time. I also told them I will send them a package in January, when I do actually finish what I set out to do.
Here's the next fail: I had a goal. I'm not sure where I heard it, but it has been my mantra all year: "Wrapped and done by December 1."
Nope. Guess who was up until 5am on Christmas Eve/Christmas morning wrapping gifts?
Sigh.
I tried SO HARD to get it all done. I did most of my shopping online before December rolled around, and I even did some wrapping (sans bows, since those get crunched if you do them too early), but it still wasn't enough for me.
I did two angel tree gifts. Well, three technically, since one I couldn't tell if it read boots or books, so I got them both. But I didn't donate anything to the food pantry or volunteer at the homeless shelter.
I got pictures taken and printed and sent out my personally-addressed cards with at least a week for delivery. But my enclosed letter offended my sister, we got in a fight and now she won't speak to me at all.
I put up the tree, lights, decor, everything by myself; though I did it before Thanksgiving, which is offensive to some people, and which I would never have done a few years ago. And I spent too much money on making my tree pretty, not full of fun memories for my child.
I thought I got good gifts for my husband and my mother-in-law and my child. I didn't get my uber-techy husband anything electronic; he asked for a smart watch and I got him clothes. And my child was so obsessed with the first gift he opened that he had a hard time appreciating any of the cool things anyone else got for him.
I did neighbor gifts and actually introduced myself to the people in my cul-de-sac, though I should have done that two years ago when we moved in. I made GORP for them, though that batch wasn't very good, and I hope the addition of orange zest didn't get anyone sick. I made at least four double-batches of GORP (my recipe is here) for neighbors and co-workers, but I didn't get any to my sisters, who love it.
And all of this is on top of working full-time and trying to take care of my family and very busy autistic child, etc., etc., etc. But my mother-in-law does most of the housework anymore, so I really shouldn't be complaining.
Why is it so hard to be proud of our accomplishments? Why is it so easy to let the negative thoughts dissuade us from believing that we have actually done something well? Is it pride?
Maybe. Probably.
I know I have an issue with pride; I was really offended when my husband went to our bishop to ask for help last year. We didn't really need it at the time, and I felt terribly guilty about receiving help when there are people who actually do need it. What we actually needed was for me to stick to a budget . . . another huge fail.
Even so--I am trying. There are SOOOO many things I could be doing better. I won't list them here, because it would definitely make this post {TLDR}. I wanted to make things nice for my family, even though by the end I was so exhausted that I slept most of Christmas day. I wanted to have a "merry little Christmas," and although I still feel like I failed, I tried.
And now I'm crying.
I really did try, and I just don't feel like anyone noticed. And that's the folly of my pride: I wanted someone to tell me I did a good job. Even if I feel like I didn't. Even if I don't know how to "do Christmas" when it's only the four of us.
Did Jesus notice? I hope so. I didn't focus on Him as much as I should have; I was too busy trying to get everything else done. But I know He sees my heart, and He knows how hard I am trying to do the right thing. Even if I don't know what that is sometimes. I AM trying to be like Him, and to do what He would have me do. I know I'm not even close to having this whole life-thing (let alone Christmas!) figured out, but I know I'm not alone.
He cares. He notices. He wants me to simplify and slow down and take some time to get to know Him again.
Maybe that was my lesson from the Christmas season: to not let the clutter get in the way of the beauty. He is the Reason, the Light, the Gift. He is Love, pure and simple.
Cards, gifts, projects--they aren't bad things, as long as we remember why we do them.
I will remember. I will let Him be the Light in my heart.
1 comment:
I felt many of those are things this year. I actually found myself melting down along with my kids in a flurry of trying to get everything done. Simplifying (or at least really REALLY organizing my time) will be a priority next year.
And by the way, your tree is amazing, your cards and pictures are incredible, and the gift you gave us was perfection (and such a surprise)! Give yourself a little credit, you pulled off an NFCP when I dropped the ball, you DO work full time (crazy hours I might add), you take good care of your family and you do your best. That's all you can do. I love you!
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