Vonerable

My Own Cheer Squad

I'm challenged these days about how much I rely on others to lift me up. It's right, of course, to encourage each other, and no one is an island. But there's lots of space for me to grow into as a self-encourager. Wiiiide open space.

What would it look like? Some out loud statements of truth and hope. Some reminding myself of the good and the already done. More bible. Less vacuous magazine/tv consumption. Breathing deeply, smiling and ignoring the destuctive chatter that can edge its way into my consciousness: "things will never change", "I can't cope", "I shouldn't stick my neck out", "Everyone else is so much more together than me". You know the drill.

My man is awesome at encouraging me. I can get slack and just rely on him and my other wonderful family and friends. Time for me to slap myself on the back.

       

And look! The little vonerables wore the pyjamas I requested. I've had a mental picture for ages of the four of them in white and pale blue pyjamas, unwrapping their presents, but it's always too much bother. There were some who thought it was too much bother this year too, but they could see it was special to me. We'll have to have a rerun next year because I forgot to get a photo of all of them together! Won't they be thrilled!

 

Christmas Stress First Aid

Maybe you're like me and you're not, perish the thought, 'ready' for Christmas. Ready seems to mean: gifts wrapped and placed under the immaculately decorated tree, home baked goods set out ready for unexpected guests, cards sent, Christmas lunch preparation completed, and all the important Christmas-related activities attended to (advent calendar, Jesse tree, tour of local Christmas light displays, carols by candlelight, nativity play etc. etc. etc.). That's the definition I'm labouring under, anyways. 

It seems every checkout operator, acquaintance I run into at the shop, magazine article author, and facebook friend is rating their readiness. And to be perfectly honest I have fallen head over heels into a well of anxiety and frustration. A panic that causes me to ask the little vonerables to leave me alone so I can prepare the stuff that I think will enhance their experience of Christmas. Yes. I know. 

Reading Ann Voskamp's post "When You're Just Ready for the Rest of Christmas" planted a seed of rebellion. She says,   

What if I laid down efforts and expectations, perfectionism and performance… and simply waited with arms and heart and eyes wide open?

I like the sound of that. Circumstances, and my propensity to leave everything until it absolutely has to be done has left me, again, with far more to accomplish in order to be 'ready' than the hours available. Here's my plan.

1. Give up on 'ready'. Except for readying my heart
2. Just wrap the presents I have time for. The little vonerables don't need them all anyway. And maybe they can have some in the days after Christmas.
3. Just make the food I have time for. I think my husband may have, ever so gently, tried to suggest this yesterday when he saw my ambitious menu plan....
4. Embrace the interruptions. That's a hard one for me. 
5. Post the cards and interstate gifts another day. They're late already so it won't make much difference. 
6. Stop once every hour to be still and connect with someone or with God
7. Light some candles, play carols, eat fruit
8. Guard my mind from the kind of thinking that focuses on what I didn't get done, what other people did get done and how much I have left to do.

I'm also helped by the words of others seeking to stay present with their loved ones rather than 'doing' Christmas. Thanks Jo!

This post is the first part of my rebellion. Or it could be procrastination. Either way, I wish you a beautiful, relaxed, connected time with the ones you love. And if the day itself is not all you'd hoped for, remember that there's always the next day. It doesn't have to be called 'Christmas' to be special. 

Epilogue:

Since writing this I have had a meltdown. Two meltdowns. Okay, maybe a few. There was shouting at children who seem incapable of following an instruction. There were bad words utterred when I remembered I had no gifts for the three, very dear, extra people who will be feasting with us tomorrow.  There was hyperventilating when my darling man came home from the shops with extra meat. Meat for AFTER Christmas. Does he not realise that nothing for post-Christmas consumption can be permitted in the already overflowing fridge? Apparantely the fridge in the shed has room. I'm not going to look. I don't want to know. 

My saving grace has been to water the garden. And to remember the vastness and not-of-space-and-time-ness of the God I am celebrating and reverencing this Advent. It hasn't stopped me from yelling but it brings me back to centre.