The Christmas cards are not out yet and I will tell you why. I don’t like my hair in the photograph. It’s debilitating perfectionism like this that keeps me quiet, leaving people to think I am aloof or distant or a mute. Perfectionism is the reason I sometimes don’t give the gifts I have made to the people I love. Perfectionism and accompanying fatigue are the reasons I don’t throw more parties or make Christmas goody plates for the neighbors. My perfectionism has stalled the Annual Christmas Video this year. I can’t find the perfect song.
I’ve never been able to fall into the Christmas routine that so many families have: they get their Christmas cards out early; they have a current family portrait on the wall; they shop for Christmas in October. Immediate needs tend to push my Christmas planning and shopping to December.
However, the true Christmas meaning is wrapped in grace. My softest memories and most meaningful times have nothing to do with a perfect photo or the cutest card. The best gift offered to us presented himself in a manger, and the humility and imperfection of the scene reminds me that love doesn’t require perfect presentation. Humble offerings are sometimes the most meaningful.
I took some of my Young Women out for hot chocolate last night. We talked for hours as the rain fell outside the little shop. We told one another about the favorite gifts we have given and received. The gifts the girls remembered were not expensive. We laughed and enjoyed the memories together of a father placing his gift on the front door of their home (where it remains) because he loved it so much; of a doll given to one of the girls by her brother and father, now in tatters, still sitting in her room. Last night will always be a special memory for me and I did it with messy hair, drove everyone in a cluttered van, and presented no wrapped gifts–just my time and a little hot chocolate.
I’ll get my cards out (I LOVE receiving Christmas cards!) and Richard will make an incredible Annual Christmas Video. I won’t make goody plates, but when I make a good batch of something, I’ll run some next door or across the street. I’ll never shake all of my perfectionist tendencies or my desire to just stay home away from the frantic scenes. But I hope you smile when you think of a time spent together with us this year, even if it’s just been through the blog. I share because I love you.