Scooby Doo cartoons were the scariest thing I watched growing up. You never knew who the bad guy REALLY was. It only took a few episodes to realize that the ghost, or goblin, or swamp monster, or whatever, was really a guy in a costume (wasn't it always a guy?) with a greedy plan to prosper himself at the expense of someone else.

These days we seem to be surrounded by greedy people with schemes to profit and empower themselves more and more at the expense of others. Instead of putting on costumes, however, these villains hide behind other people, ideologies, religions, political positions, and real, manufactured, and imaginary wars. Sometimes they even hide behind masks. Actual masks.

It's tempting in these hours and days to yield to fear, to react in panic, and to begin shouting, spitting, and blaming whatever and, or whomever, we see. Lots and lots of people are telling us where to point. What they forget to tell us is that whenever we point a finger, there are three pointing back at us. We still haven't learned Adam's lesson in the Garden of Eden... resorting to casting blame does not solve the problem.



A particular verse of Scripture keeps coming to mind, from Paul's letter to the Ephesians. Now, mind you, the church that was in Ephesus was a divided, contrary bunch in a crazy, pagan city with a lot of really strange goings-on... the kind of things that would make today's Christians who are in a snit about "keeping Christ in Christmas" completely berserk. (For more on ancient Ephesus, this is an excellent article: http://bit.ly/1QAFhgV)

Paul writes:

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood [contending only with physical opponents], but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this [present] darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly (supernatural) places. (Eph 6:12, Amplified)

Wait a minute... our struggle, our battle, is NOT against people?
No. Our struggle is against the unseen enemies of the soul. The temptation to be ignorant, divisive, greedy, loveless, fearful, angry, hateful, prideful, selfish, and so on.

Ephesus was in the midst of some serious socio-political upheaval. I wonder if the Christians there were tempted to start pointing fingers at their "enemies" who wanted, in some cases, to kill them. It's a natural reaction. If someone wants to destroy you, it's primal human nature to fight back. But according to Paul, battling "flesh and blood" isn't going to solve the problem.

Now, the church has often taken this verse and started praying and binding and casting out. That's all well and good, but as one minister has said, you can't take authority over principalities and powers if you can't take authority over a sink full of dirty dishes.

In other words, start with your own heart first. You are, after all, "a heavenly place" because the kingdom of God is within you. And you are the only "heavenly place" you have direct authority over.

So ask yourself, what's manipulating your emotional reactions? What's driving your thought processes? Who told you to feel or think or react that way? In too many instances, every day, I have to admit it's not the Spirit of God... it's me. My flesh. My fear. My ignorance. Sometimes it's just because I've been feeding myself nothing but the news, so that's what comes out.

Now, I'm not saying that people don't do bad, evil, wicked things. They do. Because they, too, are being controlled and manipulated by those "spiritual forces of wickedness" Paul was talking about. Here's the problem... we don't have the power to change them, we only have the power and authority to change ourselves. As Ghandi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world."

We have to start somewhere, as the song we sing at Christmas says:
"Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me." 

My son came home this week with an armload of gifts for our family, some from his work and some from church friends. I cried.


Then I got a message from a friend, thanking me for something I wrote a year ago and encouraging me to continue blogging and writing. I cried again.

For me, those unexpected gifts (Yes, I consider words of affirmation tangible gifts ... can you guess what my love language is?) are often the ones that mean the most. They become the gifts that stay with me well beyond the holiday season.

I wonder if that's how the shepherds felt when the angel appeared and announced the arrival of the Savior of the world? Surprised, blessed, humbled, grateful...

Despite my pre-Christmas season commitment to avoid the annual commercialized Christmas pressure, I find myself drowning in a sea of cheap bows and ugly wrapping paper yet again.

Besides the nasty glue gun burn on my finger (yes, the same finger I snipped open with kitchen shears last summer) obtained while obsessively creating 3D paper stars so we would have some "new" decorations this year, I've depleted my "slush fund" like a cistern in a drought to buy presents for my kids and grandson. Not lots of presents, mind you, just one or two apiece. Now I'm fretting over the dearth of gifts and the depletion of my slush security fund. And there are still names on the list...

It doesn't help that everyone around me seems to have a surplus of Christmas funds this year. From iPads to the latest gaming system, to those wretched commercials where the wife presents her husband with a brand new Lexus with a ginormous bow on the top and the husband cracks open a box of "he went to Jared"...

Besides the gift issues, in order to spend Christmas Day with grandbaby, I did something I would ordinarily NEVER do. I finagled (manipulated) an invitation to the home of my SIL's parents for Christmas dinner. The kind of invitation that comes because folks don't want to say "no, we'd rather not include you, but we won't say so because we don't want to be rude."

Blea. Why do I do this to myself again and again? Can we just skip this season?

Don't try to tell me it's all about worshiping Jesus, because I had a more spiritual worship experience with the Lord last night in my dream montage (which involved a marble grotto, holy water and a genuinely intense one-on-one with Jesus) than I've ever had doing the Christmas thing.  Seriously, there's so much hype involved in Christmas and Easter services at church that it's often hard to hear His voice.

© Photographer | Agency: Dreamstime.com

As for the "creating family memories" and "togetherness" idea, that disintegrated sometime after my kids became teenagers.  Yeah, I remember opening gifts and racing to the phone in the hallway (the kind that was attached to the wall, folks, with a cord and everything!) to call my friends and compare gifts. I remember wishing, desperately, that one of my friends could keep me company for Christmas dinner with the fam. I really don't want to force my kiddos to endure my idealistic holiday vision against their will, either.

*sigh*
Hubby just came home and announced we must have a "state of the finances" meeting, which means nothing good. This is where I need a fast-foward button ...


Like I said, this is my whiny post. I'm sure I'll come out of it soon. Please forgive me for pity partying!

This year, I'm determined to read some Christmas themed stories DURING the Christmas season, instead of in January, or in July, like usual.


I started with a brand new release written by fellow Inkwell Inspirations blogger (and debut author) Barbara Early entitled "Gold, Frankincense, and Murder." Red herrings abound in this cozy mystery. I found myself asking "whodunit?" right up until the murderer's unmasking.

A missing coworker. 
A muscle-bound side-kick.
Sometimes the holidays can be murder.

Woven throughout the tale is the systematic dismantling of the heroine's Christmas tree by her cat, Soot. I think I owned that cat, once upon a time. Topping off the story is a sweet touch of romance between the heroine and the hunky hero, Sam. Will they figure out their attraction before it's too late?

As a Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden fan growing up, "Gold, Frankincense, and Murder" was a lovely reminder of what I loved about those early cozy mysteries. Need a quick boost for your Christmas spirit? Download "Gold, Frankincense, and Murder" for Kindle, or order your copy ASAP from White Rose Publishing!

Call it a pet peeve. Call it hypersensitivity to conflict and strife. Whatever it is, I'm SO tired of the griping about "taking the Christ out of Christmas."


Yes, Christmas is ridiculously over-commercialized. Yes, Santa Claus gets top billing from the world. But would we really WANT to subject the image of our Savior and Lord to the hype of the season? Drape him with Christmas lights, portray him sitting beside a decorated tree with a wrapped package in hand? Really?

But, Jesus is the reason for the season!
Yeah, but Jesus is the reason for EVERY season ...  football season, baseball season, ski season, hunting season ... Hmm. If only the church would do battle for the name and honor and glory of the Christ during all THOSE seasons as militantly as they do during Christmas!

But it's Jesus's birthday!
Um, no, it's not. Based on interpretation of the scriptures coupled with historical records, the actual birth of the Christ in Bethlehem took place in the spring. Sometime in the third century, the leaders of the early church, seeking to direct their congregations away from the pagan holidays they were accustomed to celebrating, decided to celebrate the birth of the Christ at the same time as numerous pagan holidays, including the birth of the Babylonian "queen of heaven." (It's the same mindset we use today with our "harvest parties" in an attempt to turn Christians away from observing Halloween.


And then there's the distress about abbreviating Christmas to "Xmas." Of all the arguments, I find this one the most irritating. Why? Because it exposes our tendency to choose offense over knowledge. The use of "X" in place of "Christ" was never intended as a slight to Jesus. During the days of the Roman persecution of the church, believers adopted the "ichthus" – or fish – symbol to represent their faith. According to R.C. Sproul, "Fish in Greek (ichthus) involved the use of the letters for the Greek phrase “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.”

Saying "happy holidays" is offensive!
Actually, the word holiday comes from Old English and means "holy days." I would like to have "happy holy days" all year round, wouldn't you?

So the next time you're tempted to jump in, feet first, to the so-called "war on Christmas," take a deep breath and ask yourself, WWJD? Or, as the early church might have put it, what would X do? Somehow I doubt Jesus would be having a hissy fit over how much appreciation He receives during the month we've labeled "the Christmas season." Instead, I fear He might be grieved by the strife, offense, hatred, abuse, and division that His followers have brought into the mix.

Maybe it's time to set aside our frenetic attempts to defend our Lord and instead love the unlovely and show mercy to the lost in the same way He did during His life on earth. Let's move past petty arguments about a pagan holiday that was overtaken by organized religion and move into the kind of acceptance and love demonstrated by our Jesus.

Perhaps it's because we honor traditions during the holidays more than any other time, this season can also cause us to tumble into unwelcome ruts in our thoughts and feelings.

I posted a few suggestions for getting a grip on the holidays at Inkwell Inspirations today that I hope will help me purge some of those old motivations behind some of the things I find myself doing year after year... Maybe they'll help you, too! Click the picture link below...

All the wrapping was recycled.

If you've followed this blog throughout the holiday season this year, you'll recall our "freegan Christmas" experiment. As a family, we took on the challenge of celebrating Christmas this year without all the frenetic shopping ad spending; resolving to create handmade, thrifted, recycled, or other "freegan" gifts for each other.

So did it work?

A bout of the flu that came home with my high school junior and spread, as well as several whopping snowstorms, limited my ability to scour the thrift stores, but I managed a couple of trips. When NYC gets a foot of snow, everything comes screeching to a halt. When Meeker, Colorado gets a foot of snow, well, life continues as per normal. It's all in your perception of reality, I suppose.

My crew, eating Christmas dinner.

I ended up spending less than $30 on my gifts for my family. A pair of near-new Levi's for my oldest son who, at 18, is already afflicted with that peculiar male belief that one's waist size remains the same throughout life. Daughter received a handmade velvet and lace earring organizer for the wall. I found a golf ball monogrammer for my son-in-law: $2.50. And son #2 received a thrifted Tickle Me Cookie Monster ($3.50 plus batteries). Yes, he's 16, but he's quite the Cookie Monster fan. He has shown that toy to all his friends who've come over since Christmas, and it makes them all laugh. The laughter of teenagers is priceless.

That left my youngest. I was still racking my brain for his gift on Christmas Eve. Scary. I discovered a black hoodie sweatshirt at the local thrift store for under $1. Using the "parkour" logo he has on his FB page, I crafted a fabric and felt replica and used my sewing machine to applique the logo to the sweatshirt.  (Parkour is also known as freerunning.)

The real thrill? When my boys realized they had presents. For some reason (failure to listen?) they were under the impression there simply wouldn't BE any gifts this year. Sigh.

The freegan Christmas project seemed to be harder on my husband than it was on me. He gave me the best gift ever, though. He went grocery shopping for me. On Christmas Eve, no less! And he picked up stocking stuffers for everyone and a gift or two at the dollar store.

I got a giggle out of this... reminded me of Kate & Leopold.

So, would I count the experiment as a success? Yes, and no. I didn't give my family enough time to prepare, and apparently I didn't explain things well enough. But the light in their eyes when they realized there were presents for them under the tree was well worth the effort. And my youngest, who just turned 13, was happier with his recycled, handmade present than any storebought gift he's received in years. For me, knowing he really, really liked his present was the best part of the day. One of those cases when I was reminded that giving is REALLY better than receiving!

Will we do it again? I will, but I won't make it a rule for the rest of the family unless they want to participate. Just knowing that recycling, upcycling, thrifting, etc., are an option is good for us all. It certainly expanded MY view of the day.

I posted a Christmas Eve message at Inkwell Inspirations today.
Take a moment to consider the original Nativity set. Those were real people, who trusted a real God, and responded to His Words of promise.
God's promises to us — as many as will believe — are just as real today. How will you respond? Read the whole post here.

"For all the promises of God in him are yea, and in him Amen, unto the glory of God by us." 

2 Cor 1:20

Our Christmas trees talk. (No, I haven't been sniffing the pine-scented room spray while decorating.) When we festoon the branches with baubles and bows, we are writing a kind of story for our families.

Turner Tree 2010

As a newlywed, the financial expenditure of a tree and ornaments was a big deal. I found a box of wooden ornaments on clearance at K-Mart. I think the box escaped from the Island of Misfit Toys. There were wooden nutcrackers with no arms, angels with broken wings, dolls and bears with missing ears or eyes painted on the wrong side of their heads. They matched the condition of our lives at the time.

My mother-in-law's Christmas trees are always beautifully decorated. Her trees were the first themed trees I ever saw. Shortly after her mother died, she had an angel tree, decorated all in white with inherited angel ornaments. At the time I thought it was just pretty, now I see the story -- her mother's story -- in the decorating.

The year she was away from home, my father-in-law and future hubby decorated the tree by themselves. With lights. Nothing but lights. Colored, clear, twinkling, chasing, big and small, all on one tree. It was a sad tree. Like a flashy book cover with blank pages inside.

My family's tree was one of those tattered scrapbooks, filled with memories from cover to cover. We got the same kind of tree every year, had the same lights every year, and used the same ornaments every year, with a few additions here and there. The topper was a construction paper angel with gold cardboard hair my mom made. She let me draw the face on the angel (I was 3 or so). Every year, into my teens, that angel stared down at me with her black Crayola unibrow.

Chickadee, paper birdhouse, and thrift store mystery bird.

Over the years, we've had a brightly colored gypsy Bohemian tree with oversized ornaments and glittery star garland; an all white bridal tree with tulle and feathers and a dove; and the country Christmas tree with plaid ribbons and tiny baskets of popcorn. The year I was too busy to get the tree decorated in time to suit the boys, they decorated it by themselves. I called it the Technicolor Yawn Tree. It looked like someone hurled the contents of the decorating boxes onto the tree and ran away. I cried for three days.

I think I'm finally finished decorating the tree this year. Although, as with all creative processes, it's difficult to stop messing with it and call it done. There are birds roosting in my tree this year. I like birds. God always uses them in Scripture as references to His loving care and provision. He is our provider, and He'll see to us just as surely as He sees to the birds outside my window.

Bird garland from plain white copy paper.

I have yet to wake up and see a bird outside with a foreclosure notice on its nest. When the hummingbirds appear each spring, staring boldly into my windows and demanding their food, I respond. If I'll respond to a hummingbird, surely God responds to His children when we call on Him!

So this year, I suppose the theme of our tree is faith and trust in God's provision. A timely message, not just for our family, but for our nation right now.

If you "read" your Christmas tree like a book, what kind of story does it tell this year?


As part of our "freegan" Christmas, I made do with what I had this year instead of heading to Walmart for new stuff. The bird garland, tiny birdhouses, chickadees and cardinals are all homemade paper crafts I found online. I did buy the funny looking bird (no one can tell me if it's a partridge, a quail, or some imaginary birdie) for 50 cents at the thrift store.

We've always had our tree in the living room. Always. In spite of the fact we rarely spend any time in the living room, at least until Christmas morning, and then only because that's where the tree is placed.

I asked the family why we have the tree in a room we never use and they looked at me funny, as if I'd asked them why their arms are attached to their torsos.

So tonight, while they were in the garage having band practice, I moved the tree into the family room with the TV and the sectional sofa. Not too difficult, since I've yet to put any decorations on the thing. Although DH said "the tree looks good" when he plopped his hiney on the sofa tonight. Maybe there's no point in putting decorations on it... all they notice are the lights.

Anyway, the family room is the room where we spend the most time, next to the kitchen/dining room, and in my mind it makes sense to put the Christmas tree there, where it can be enjoyed.

Seriously, it took more than six hours for them to even notice it had been put up in the living room. 

Photo by Scott Feldstein

Where do you put your tree? Or do you do a tree in every room?
Is the placement of your Christmas tree based on tradition, or based on function and practicality?

So far, the hardest part of our freegan Christmas is knowing there won't be heaps of wrapped gifts tumbling out from under the tree on Christmas morning.

I'm contemplating wrapping up some empty boxes... Just for effect. You know, like those cardboard TVs and VCRs they use in furniture store displays, to create the desired illusion.

Somehow I have it in my head that piles of brightly-wrapped boxes and ribbons equate to a happy Christmas.

How about you? What images represent a happy, successful, blessed Christmas in your mind? Is it a table groaning under the weight of Christmas dinner? Is it a houseful of friends and family in matching Christmas sweaters and Santa hats? Is it the Christmas eve service at your church, with everyone singing carols together by candlelight, dressed in their holiday best? Or reading the Christmas story together by the fire as a family?

It's important to examine these traditions, and our emotional responses to them because when our holiday traditions have the power to steal our joy, its an indication we have a soul-tie to that tradition that has nothing to do with the Christ of Christmas.

It's something I'm testing in my own heart this season. If we have Christmas without gifts, or snow, or candy canes, does it still "feel" like Christmas to me? If my answer is no, then I've got my Christmas spirit established in things, not in a person. If there are no tangible gifts under the tree this year, will it still be Christmas-y?

That all depends on if I choose to celebrate gifts or celebrate Christ. Ouch.

"Stop toiling and doing and producing for the food that perishes and decomposes [in the using], but strive and work and produce rather for the [lasting] food which endures [continually] unto life eternal; the Son of Man will give (furnish) you that, for God the Father has authorized and certified Him and put His seal of endorsement upon Him."

They then said, "What are we to do, that we may [habitually] be working the works of God? [What are we to do to carry out what God requires]?"

Jesus replied, "This is the work (service) that God asks of you; that you believe in the One Whom He has sent [that you cleave to, trust, rely on, and have faith in His Messenger]." (John 6:27-29 Amp.)

Believe in the Son.

That's my assignment from heaven.

That just shortened my to-do list, how about yours?

No, I'm not cussing again. We've decided to have a freegan Christmas.

Here's a basic definition from freegan.info: "Freegans are people who employ alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources. Freegans embrace community, generosity, social concern, freedom, cooperation, and sharing in opposition to a society based on materialism, moral apathy, competition, conformity, and greed."

I'm not quite ready for, or living in a locale that lends itself to, some of the more extreme freegan practices, but the pressure, stress, and general climate of consumerism that comes with our modern American Christmas seems like a good place to start implementing some of freeganism's ideas.

I'm tired of dreading the month of December. I hate worrying about money, of all things, when I should be thinking about the birth of my Savior. Finagling the funds from the budget (or blessing Visa and MasterCard) is a huge stress. I have neither the time nor the desire to spend hours breathing recirculated mall air with a bunch of other cranky shoppers or wasting whole days staring at pages of online goods.

So this year I won't be redecorating my entire house in the latest Christmas theme, or rushing out to buy new strings of lights and begging hubby to climb on the snow-covered roof in below-zero weather to install them. There will be no mad scramble for wrapping paper or last-minute items for unexpected guests.

Gifts must be upcycled, thrifted, donated, traded, or otherwise of little to no expense. Things made from materials we already have lying around, gifts of service or time.

We're going to have to be creative, and we're going to have to think, literally, outside the box.  And outside the box stores!

I'll keep you posted on how it goes.

For more information on freegan living, check out the following:

freegan.info Website
Squatters (NY Times)
Four Easy Ways to be a Freegan (US News and World Report)
How Far Would You Go? (Oprah)
Woman in Phoenix gathers wasted food and uses it to feed the homeless.  (YouTube Video)

"This month is crazy!"
"I'm so busy, I can't even enjoy Christmas!"
"I have so much to do I'll never get it all done!"


Sound familiar?
(If it doesn't, you can scootch yourself right on over to my house for some holiday assignments!)

I'm a victim of Martha-itis when it comes to Christmas. No, not Bible Martha, Martha Stewart. (Although she certainly fits the Martha role... can't you see Ms. Stewart tugging at Jesus' sleeve during His message and insisting her sister come and help her in the kitchen?)

All year long I'm drawn to crafts and projects and decorating ideas and homemade Christmas cards and the like, only to find myself smack dab in the midst of December sans a plan. (That's French for "without," in case you were wondering.) 

This December, I'm giving up on planning and turning to plotting.
I'm a writer, I can plot. Right? Sure, I can! And so can you.

Set up some scenes. The tree-decorating scene, the gingerbread house-making scene, the fill-in-the-blank outdoor activity scene (because I won't be participating), the office party scene, the candlelight Christmas Eve service scene, the shopping for stocking stuffers scene (because if I do any other shopping it will be online), and so forth. You can look at your December calendar and lay out your own plot.


The problem we have is when our scenes are interrupted by unexpected events, unannounced characters, and surprising twists. When those things occur as I'm writing, I enjoy them. I know the story is moving along, bringing my characters closer to the resolution of their internal conflicts.


In real life when those things occur I tend to kick and scream and throw stuff.

So what if I were to approach this month with a novelist's mindset? Having the general framework in my head, but willing to let the details "fall where they may" instead of scheduling every moment of every day for myself and every member of my family? Carrying out the month of December — Advent, a time for preparing oneself for Christ's soon return — from the POV as my life's main character instead of narrator. Instead of being traumatized by the unexpected, I'd be invigorated... looking for the next exciting turn in the story.

If you're feeling overwhelmed by December's activities (like I have been) just step back, pretend you are your own main character, and lay out your plot for the month, with plenty of room for the twists and turns that are certain to come!

See you next month!  
(That would be Wednesday.) 

I snapped some pictures this morning before everyone else woke up (while the house was still clean).

We used Josh's black bear collection for our Christmas decorating theme this year.


For all my readers/followers/fellow bloggers I've met this year, I'm so thankful for you!
 I pray that your holidays are filled with light, life, and love. Stay safe, stay healthy, and may 2010 be a year of prayers answered, dreams fulfilled, and the grace and mercy of God manifest in and through us on a daily basis.

I'm looking forward to the next holiday already, because it's truly my favorite, whether I celebrate it alone or with a crowd, on New Year's Eve or New Year's Day. There's such potential in a whole new year, such opportunity to change and grow and improve!

Carpe Diem!




 

I committed the mother-in-law's cardinal sin. I meddled.
I could justify my meddling. I was, after all, simply concerned for their safety.But justifying behaviors doesn't resolve an offense. Only an apology, given and accepted, can do that. And so I had to humble myself and apologize to my son-in-law yesterday.
Family gatherings, stress over money or health, personality conflicts, misunderstandings, lack of sleep, and too much sugar create the ideal breeding ground for strife and unforgiveness this time of year. Who hasn't left a holiday gathering disappointed, hurt, angry, embarrassed, or otherwise traumatized? It may have been the family member who drank too much and embarrassed him- or herself, or the blowup between mother and daughter about how the grandchildren are being raised, or the subtle (and not-so-subtle) criticisms about your weight or your date.
We all know how it feels to be inadvertently thrown onstage during the annual production  of Christmas family theatrics. But what happens when you realize you're the one who opened the scene? For once, don't justify yourself. Don't defend your right to behave a certain way. Don't try to explain your way out of a sticky spot. Just suck it up and say you're sorry.
'Tis the season of peace. Maintaining the spirit of Christmas isn't  about the gifts you buy, winning the holiday lighting contest, or participating in the Christmas choir. Your part is this: "As far as it is possible with you, be at peace with all men." (And women, and children, and your pets, and those irritating people in front of you in line at Wal-Mart...)
The story of Christmas is of a great and mighty deity who humbled himself to come to earth for the sake of "peace and good will toward men."
Take a cue from the Christmas carol that says, "he's making a list, and checking it twice..." Make your list, and see if you need to humble yourself and offer any apologies this holiday season, in honor of the Prince of Peace.

'Tis the season of tradition. Traditions that fill us with the spirit of love and joy. And traditions that sap our energy and drag us down like a load of coal in our stockings.

 Did you hear that collective gasp out there in cyberland? Am I slamming the traditions of Christmas? Do I dare to dis the holiday customs of our forefathers? Um. For the sake of peace and joy and goodwill, yep.

ALL Christmas traditions are not suitable or enjoyable for everyone. Traditions are very individualized, based on history and culture and personal preference.

And in reality, traditions are only good for certain seasons of our lives. Traditions have a shelf life. They expire. But instead of tossing them, we haul them out of the Christmas box and get out the defibrillators.

A dead tradition has lost its meaning and purpose. It no longer brings life. Where there was once anticipation, now there is dread. Laughter and love are replaced by irritation and strife. Don't tell me this doesn't happen to everyone. Dead traditions, and the heroic attempt to keep them alive, are the stuff of every holiday movie comedy!



For me, the annual Christmas tree-cutting excursion was a living nightmare that involved  cross-country skis, blue lips, the very real possibility of being lost in the forest, and the trauma of tromping helplessly from tree to tree while my artistic mother hemmed and hawed over which one was the "right" one.  Invariably we ended up with a tree that was too big, had weird, scrawny limbs, and never looked as good in the living room as it looked in the woods.

But a real tree was TRADITION. All else was null and void, so I extended the misery well into adulthood. The last real tree I had was a beautiful pinyon pine. I mourned that tree's death for weeks. (Granted, I was two weeks away from delivering my fourth baby and a bit emotional.) The next year we bought an artificial tree. I remember feeling like I'd done something sacrilegious. But I was astonished by the reduction in stress. No needles on the floor to kill the vacuum, no pine sap in the carpet, no cat drinking the water and shredding the couch in a sugar-induced frenzy. Last year I took it one step further. I bought a pre-lit tree, because I'm the one who puts on the lights, and I'm tired of it.


If there's a good time to shake things up in your life, this is the season. When Jesus came to earth as a baby in a manger, he instituted a whole new way of living for a people so embedded in their traditions they'd forgotten the very reason they had them. (Every time I type "tradition" I want to break into the Fiddler on the Roof song.)

Here's your tradition check-up... you may want to do this as a couple, as a family, or just by yourself. Examine each tradition. Hold it up to the light, check your motives, ask yourself, "do I love doing this?" If you can answer "yes" that's a keeper!

 What traditions engender feelings of obligation, resentment, pain, grief, or frustration? If getting out the box of "grandma's special ornaments" throws you into a week-long depression, DON'T TOUCH THE BOX! Go get some ornaments that make you happy!


Once you've pruned out the dead stuff, you'll have the time and the energy to try new things. What traditions would you like to implement? What things have you always dreamed of doing during Christmas? Maybe tickets to The Nutcracker, making and decorating a gingerbread house, going ice skating on Christmas eve, caroling, or watching the entire Home Alone series the Saturday before Christmas. You know, those things "other" people do but you've never done because you were too busy making your husband's great-great-granny's fruitcake, because "that's just the way we do things," even though everyone, including your husband,  hates fruitcake. 
(Well, I like fruitcake, but that's just me. If you've got one and you want to send it my way, I'll take it.)

Somehow, I don't think Jesus appreciates the season we're supposed to celebrate his birth turned into a frenetic, distracting, high-pressure month of extreme anxiety and stress. Instead, lay aside those dead weights and do the things that bring you joy and peace.

"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light."                                         ~Jesus

"Historical accounts say that for the first Thanksgiving in 1621, the pilgrims went out and killed the deer to eat and gathered food for the three-day feast.There were no worries about what groceries had what on sale. Why? Because they ate what they had and gave thanks for it.

I’m not encouraging you to stay home from the grocery store this week. I’m not encouraging you to boycott Thanksgiving grocery sales.
Instead, I’m encouraging you to take some time to remember the reason for the holiday.

 The pilgrims threw a feast like no other because they were thankful."