It's so hard to quiet the fear of not having enough
Christmas is only days away, and I feel the pressure of the clock ticking. Despite the fact that there are ample presents under the tree, I find myself scrolling through Instagram wondering if I need to buy that Northern Lights light cube and whether it could get here in time.
The anxiety gnaws at me, asking, Is this enough? Did I get enough for both girls? Does one have more than the other? My finger hovers over the “shop now” button for ridiculous items that neither of them has asked for. None of these items are anything that anybody needs. And my loathing of mess and clutter can almost guarantee that most of these purchases would end in the Big Brother Big Sister donation bin by spring.
I saw a clip from comedian Nate Bargatze’s Nashville Christmas—a hilarious bit about Christmas, that begins with the nativity scene. Then enters the angel who shares the comedic decrees that completely confuse poor Joseph. This angel says that we will celebrate the birth of the holy child by putting pine trees in the house, “that shall be decorated with glittering glass ornaments.”
The skits goes on to recognize the absurdity of Christmas songs. Dashing through the snow when there was no snow in Bethlehem. It’s true. Most Christmas songs aren’t really about Jesus at all (but I will say that “Silent Night” is my favorite, and I don’t consider it boring at all). Hilariously funny, the skit is also a reminder that somewhere along the way, the holiday became performative, and many of use have completely lost the plot.
That’s exactly what happens to me when I get this close out and look at the presents under the tree. I am swept up in the expectation, influenced by the social media posts (I guess they are doing their “influencer jobs pretty well), and I succumb to the idea that love is measured in Amazon deliveries that can be torn open on Christmas morning.
Want vs. Need
Even though I try to teach my kids that there is a difference between want and need, I battle my own impulse-buying demons.
What my family needs is shelter (which we have in our beautiful hom), food (fortunately we have the means to provide), love (endless), safety (all that we can guarantee), and connection (I think we are nailing this too!).
We want the latest facial care products, hair curling tools, trending sweatshirts, and more. There’s a lot that I want too—bags, shoes, magic elixirs that will make me young again. Desire is a natural part of being human—but the distinction between want and need is important, and so often that lines is blurred.
I’m blessed to say that we have all that we need, even if my kids might feel differently. But I know that 20 years from now, neither one of my daughters will remember what wasn’t under the tree. What I hope will stay with them as the years pass is the feeling of joy that we get from being together as a family. It’s in the laughter over the games we play together at dinner and the cheers they hear from the sidelines and stands when they put those running shoes and volleyball to use.
The Real Gift of the Holidays
When I think about Christmas memories from my own childhood, I’m grateful to be 52 years old and still have both of my parents here this holiday. Indeed, they tare getting older as quickly as kids are getting older. I’m getting older, and perhaps that is what makes me realize—with a somewhat heavy heart—that time is the one gift we can’t buy. The real gift of the holidays is that it slows us down and reminds us to be present in this moment—to be here right now, with everyone who is still here.
So this Christmas, I’m trying to replace the anxiety of not enough presents with being present and treasure the gift of time together.