simplifying christmas: giving handmade

many could argue that giving handmade actually complicates christmas - and in a way, it probably does. but the simplification comes in other ways: 1. spending less. 2. giving more of your heart, your energy, and thus - more meaningful gifts. 3. less waste - both in packaging and in unused gifts (assuming you think through what you're giving before giving it). 4. better use of your time - i would much rather spend half of a day making a present than two hours stressing out about what to buy, going to the store, finding it, standing in line, etc. the emotional taxation is far less.

i could probably come up with more reasons to give handmade, but you probably get the idea. i had considered taking the handmade pledge this year, but i knew i wouldn't be able to give handmade to everyone on my list, so i'll promote this great network of artisans and others who value handmade gifts. i'm with them in spirit.

simplifying christmas: skipping black friday

one of the first steps we took in simplifying our christmas was to decide to skip black friday. the alluring sale prices have always been something of a tradition in my family - up early, in town early, and standing in line... all very early. black friday shopping isn't necessarily a bad thing when exercised with self-control and a modicum of good stewardship, but neither of those virtues come particularly easy for me, and so black friday has always been about buying stuff rather than buying gifts. and goodness knows i don't need more stuff, especially the kind rooted in the materialism and greed to which i am prone.

so we're skipping the shopping today, with the exception of an early morning run matt made to home depot, to pick up some tools he needs for his new job. we will go out for a leisurely breakfast, pick up a few groceries, and then clean the house and pull out some (simple) christmas decorations.

thankful for...

1. a pretty great husband.
2. a calling i love.
3. more family than i can shake a stick at (and they seem to like me!)
4. a warm home, with warm kitties.
5. starbucks.
6. good friends to share life with.
7. hobbies that bring great satisfaction in the use of my free time.
8. a new job for my husband.
9. hope.
10. the love of Christ.

happy thanksgiving.

simplifying christmas

the holidays - which, for me, begin when the school supplies line the shelves at target, yellow buses again traverse the streets and the weather turns crisp - have always been my favorite time of year (how cliche!). that, i suppose, is why i "begin" in september, drawing out the season as long as i can, with the culmination at christmas, and tapering off to my early-january birthday. but i have noticed in the last several years, that the "post-holiday letdown" always hits hard. sometimes right after christmas, sometimes not till my birthday. every year i've tried something new to avoid it - starting earlier, so i can enjoy the season longer (and thereby be emotionally 'done' with it by new year's); doing it up bigger, hoping the decorations bring on adequate feelings of festivity; doing more things outside the house, candy cane lane, painting ornaments, fancy dinners, holiday parties, assuming events are the key to celebration... but nothing has ever worked - there seems to be no solution for the post-holiday letdown.

in the past few years, it's become increasingly clear to me where it comes from. (and if my parents are reading this, i truly hope they won't take offense at my hypothesis, because i really don't blame them at all.) i know my love language is gifts. i like presents. (who doesn't?) but i really like presents. and i do love giving (almost) as much as receiving, but honestly - i reaaaally like presents. as a kid, even when we had less money than usual, we always had very "nice christmases". gifts were rarely in shortage, and even if quantity was seemingly lacking, it was because quality was present. in other words, through no fault of my parents, because i know they didn't plan it that way - i've been trained to like presents. top that off with a natural bent toward materialism and greed (thanks, sin-nature!), and i believe we have the perfect recipe for the post-holiday letdown cocktail.

you see, the focus on wishlists and building it all up to one moment (okay, 3 - we open presents 3 times when you account for our whole family) creates for that one moment (or 3 moments) unfair expectations, which opening presents can't possibly meet.

so i recognize this tendency in my heart - and i don't like it one bit. my efforts this year will not be about length of season, or well-planned wishlists, but instead will revolve around the attitude of my heart, celebration of the Reason, and not allowing our country's over-commercialization of christmas to suck me in, chew me up and spit me out depressed after my birthday has come and gone.

you'll see more posts from me over the next month or so, sharing about how we're simplifying christmas this year. i still don't know how it'll all work - or even if it'll produce the desired effect, so it'll be something of a journey.

anxious...

my heart is anxious today. i'd like to say i don't know why, but that's not true - since i can't stop thinking about matt's job situation, and worrying about finances, i would hazard a guess that this is the source of said anxiety.

had lunch with another children's pastor-friend of mine yesterday, and on a totally different subject, she mentioned that pain is what brings growth. amen, sister. i know i'm growing in all this - and i know matt is too. sometimes i wonder if he's not experiencing as much pain as i am. if he is, he's keeping it to himself. doesn't seem all that worried. but then, he's always been the rock.

i have pictures to post, but just have to be at the computer and in the mood to post them at the same time. seems like the two never do line up. more later...

in port gamble...

here for the weekend for a family reunion and celebration of my grandparent's 50th anniversary. got in late last night, having caught a ferry after the kids' halloween event. arrived in time to suggest a late-night halloween walk to the local cemetery (struggle to resist the urge to call it a "graveyard" on halloween!). wish i'd had my camera - how the mist highlighted the dark silhouette of the mid-1800s headstones... might try again tonight...