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The “Best of” Christmas Posts – Tips to simplify, celebrate, serve, cherish, and give

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I thought it would be helpful to compile a list of my most popular or favorite posts from the past Christmas seasons. Enjoy these over several days. I’ll be sharing new posts soon. Currently we are wrapping up our first semester of homeschooling. I have much to share with you on what the Lord has been working in my heart.

I pray your Christmas season is off to a beautiful start!!

18 Ways Your Family Can Serve Others At Christmas

The Christmas season seems to blow in like a blizzard and bury us with piles of to-do’s. The key for me is to plan ahead just a little. To determine before life gets too hectic what our family will do.

Give the Gift They Don’t Know To Ask For –

“I have come to realize that my boys only retain a small portion of what I speak to them. My words are granted only a few seconds to slip in before the door of opportunity slams. Written words aren’t blocked by doors, they slide under the crack of the door. There they remain and can be taken in slowly over time and multiple times.

A letter from a parent to a child is a tool that plants words deep into the soil of the soul. Those words remain with them for life. When the words are most needed, they are waiting to be unearthed. Resurrected to life in the heart of the child.”

My Favorite Christmas Tradition – A Father’s Blessing ( For single mothers and widows, a mother’s blessing is equally as powerful and life-giving)

It’s a gift slipped into the Christmas tree. A letter. Words. To be opened with care and treasured for life. A gift that won’t be quickly forgotten. A gift that might not hold the wow factor, but a gift that will give more than we ever actually realize.

When You Are Weighed Down By Getting it Right at Christmas –

Christmas can be simpler than we make it. There is freedom in walking in simple ways. In our home some things we do every year, and some things change each year. A tradition is a gift when it is enjoyed, but when it ties you down, it’s no longer a gift. This post shares a few books and activities we enjoyed one Christmas.

How To Not Miss Christmas

“We’ve all had that kind of Christmas. The one that seems to rush by only for you to look back and feel you missed it all. The one that you feel you are on the Christmas treadmill, checking off the list, racing from obligation to obligation, panting for air.

Then you wonder, did you miss Christmas? Did you show your kids what Christmas really means?

Here’s the secret to not missing Christmas. The absolute certain way that you will not miss it.”

Fighting the Christmas Pressure to Impress

“When we fall to the pressure of our culture in our gift giving, it becomes about us.  The attention is taken from the gift recipient and placed back on us. We might earn favor or impress, but we lost our humility. Christmas is the greatest picture of humility the world has ever seen.

If we want to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, it starts with modeling humility.”

When Your Christmas Season Doesn’t Go As Planned

Sometimes when our Christmas looks nothing like we planned, we experience Him like we never imagined. Isn’t that the real gift of Christmas?

15 Non-Toy Gifts To Give At Christmas – a most popular post!! The title says it all.

When It’s Time To Break Tradition -Why The Wish List Needs To Go Away –

“He came to do. He doesn’t need our to-do’s.

Instead of filling our to-do’s with finding the perfect gifts for our kids, planning magical surprises to delight, scouring social media for the latest, newest, creative expression of Christmas magic, turn it over to him. Let go of the pressure to create magic. The magic is here. Waiting to be found. Hunt for it rather than burden yourself with creating it.”

25 Advent Calendar Days of Memories and Experiences

I’ve found a secret to fighting this type of Christmas stress.

Simplify.

With our advent calendar, we have simplified our Christmas, while making our season more meaningful and intentional. It only takes a little extra planning the first year, then each year that follows, you will thank yourself for making your holiday less stressful and more memorable.

Gifts for the True Gift of Christmas

Room in the Inn of Our Hearts

Dear Boys, When You Compare What You Get For Christmas With What Someone Else Gets

“Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise.”CS Lewis, Mere Christianity

 

 

When Your Christmas Season Doesn’t Go According To Plan

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I walk past the 4 foot tree in the upstairs hall and take note. A sprinkling of handmade ornaments hang on its branches. The rest of the ornaments remain in the box. A box of handprints. A box of painting gone wild. A box of love disguised as art projects.

It’s not the most beautiful of trees, but it is the most special. It’s the one that displays every ornament ever made by the hands of my boys. It’s the one with the colorful lights that remind me of childhood Christmas. It’s the one that the boys have taken ownership of over the years. Their special tree. This year it looks different.

It’s only partially decorated. Without my permission these little boys are becoming bigger boys. Their interests are changing. The little things that once delighted are becoming sweet memories. They are growing up. Somewhere along the tree decorating way that day, I imagine a game of tag broke out. Or a foosball match was challenged. Or a game of backyard football took shape. Something more exciting came along leaving this tree half finished.

I reflect on the years of watching their faces aglow as they meticulously hung each ornament. I remember how they worked together, each securing a spot on the tree that was all theirs. “Look, mom, isn’t it beautiful?” they would call out.

It always was beautiful. It still is beautiful even in its most imperfect, semi-forgotten state.

In our most imperfect, semi-forgotten state, He knows us. He doesn’t forget. He holds us close.

I walk through the house and take note of how different this Christmas looks in our home. “God, give me eyes to see your blessings that never cease.” I continue asking God to let me see the beauty that looks different than I envisioned. Lord, they are growing up too fast. Slow them down. Please, Lord, slow them down. I love each Christmas season as we celebrate you and watch these little eyes dance with joy. But those little eyes are beginning to look deeper into this life you’ve given them. Times are changing. My boys are changing. Show me how to change with them. Show me how to change with you, the One who never changes.

A medicine dropper leaves a sticky residue on the counter. I’m reminded how our season began in a way I never imagined. Multiple trips to the doctor, a son in excruciating pain, a diagnosis of Lyme Disease. A blessing. Answered prayers. A son held close to the Father. A child’s faith growing daily as he experiences the healing hand of his Creator. A child learning what it means to know God is good all the time even when life feels painful. Christmas blessings of hope burrowed deep in the blood and tissues that house his soul. The world calls it disease. We call it hope.

Endless phone calls and trips to doctors, physical therapy visits, researching and discussing, praying and understanding. These have taken the place of the typical Christmas busy. But isn’t Christmas about experiencing Him? Isn’t it about seeing Him? The Savior born into the world that Christmas day? Remembering that from the beginning of creation, God has put a plan in place to save us?

This Christmas looks different, but the message hasn’t changed. 

This Christmas looks different than I planned, but we are experiencing Him moment by moment. Isn’t that Christmas? 

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I walk past our Advent house. The one that counts down the days until we celebrate His birth in full. The one that holds a special activity or moment each day of the season. I think back to the years before. A door opened, a little note read, excited little voices to declare what we would do together. “We get to paint an ornament tonight!” I think back to hours ago. A door opened, a little note read, not-so-excited voices declared, “It’s paint an ornament night.”

I take note of the voice. I see the lack of enthusiasm. It’s ok. They are getting older. They are boys. They are growing and changing. Painting ornaments is supposed to lose its excitement. But thank God, I’ve had the years and the moments He’s graced me with. I delicately pick up the memories and tuck them neatly in my heart, gently closing the door. They are mine to hold forever.

This little advent house hasn’t been the giver of good gifts over the years. He has been the giver of good gifts. He only used that little house to give me those gifts, those moments with my boys. Blessings. He will continue to be the giver of good gifts. He will continue to be the giver of moments. Sometimes they will look different than I envision. He is always good.

This year the gifts look different, but the gift giver hasn’t changed. 

I walk past the box that holds our Christmas movies. Mickey’s Twice Upon A Christmas this year has been left in the box. They are too old they tell me. I take note. They are getting older. Thank God for past memories. Praise God for new ones.

This year the small moments look different, but the giver of moments remains the same.

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I unplug the lights from the tree. The tree that leans left no matter which direction you view from. The tree that I envisioned looking a particular way. It should be 9 feet tall, full and round, perfectly spaced limbs. It would be bigger and better than any tree that’s ever taken a spot in the family room.

This tree isn’t what I had in mind, but the hands that found it were given to me to hold for a season.

This year the tree looks more imperfect than I hoped, but the creator of that tree remains perfect.

I envisioned a trip to the Christmas tree farm to pick out the perfect tree. We would come home, decorate the tree, decorate the outside of the house with lights, listen to Christmas music while we sipped hot chocolate and lavished each other with love. Instead, I awoke in the middle of the night with intense pain, unable to move my leg because of muscle spasms.

My perfect day became a day I rested instead. God does this to me frequently, and I love Him for it.

My perfect Christmas plans are best lived out in ways I never envisioned, so I can experience Him in ways I never imagined.

Instead of a family trip to the farm, it was a dad and son trip to the lot. Instead of me working tirelessly making everything just perfect and right for my family, God allowed my family to serve and love me in a way that showed His perfect love for me.

This year my perfect Christmas plans failed, but the perfecter of my faith never fails.

I sat on the cold driveway, leg numb from the ice pack, watching Steve carry out the Christmas plans I so badly wanted to take part in. I wanted to be with him connecting and testing lights, weaving them just so along the bushes. Instead I watched. I watched him work with joy. I listened as the Christmas tunes drifted from his car. I took note of the little ways he was trying to create what he knew I wanted to create that day.

Times are changing, my boys are growing, our moments are looking different. This Christmas looks different than any others we’ve celebrated. My boys see the change. I see their realization of the growing up, the getting wiser, the changing preferences. They partly embrace the new moments and changes, they partly hold onto what once was.

Andrew, only 6 years old, requested his own alarm clock so he can get himself up and ready like his big brothers. Jacob, 11, stopped me as I left the room. “But, mom, will you still give him ‘yay-yays’?” (little tickles and kisses up his back).

“Oh, yes, I will never stop doing that until he tells me to.”

His shoulders relaxed as he leaned back into his pillow. “Ok, good.”

The changing is hard for each of us in our own little ways. But so very, very good.

The changing seasons of life are to be celebrated and embraced.  While some moments change, some will always remain the same. While the moments look different, what drives each moment remains unchanged.

If my Christmas season looks different than I envisioned, I can rest in knowing it was carefully laid out by the One who makes no mistakes.

And now we rest in Him as we embrace each Christmas moment that comes our way in the next days leading up to Christmas Day.

Seek Him wholeheartedly this Christmas.

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When It’s Time to Break Tradition- Why the Christmas Wish List Needs to Go Away

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My middle son had saved his birthday gift cards and finally redeemed them for a new DS game, which arrived in the mail on a Monday. We have a no electronics rule during the week, so he knew he would look at that game until Friday rolled around. But he also is quite crafty with words. “Hey, Mom, you know it’s a tradition that when I buy a new game, I play it the same day I get it.”  He stopped talking then raised his eyes to meet mine.

“Impressive, my boy!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how I feel about traditions. Nice choice of words to try to persuade my heart over my head. Well played. But no.”

Traditions are a critical part of family life. Sometimes we need to break tradition, though. Sometimes, a tradition needs to be replaced.

Before our family became intentional with keeping Christ at the center of Christmas, we would encourage our boys to make a Christmas wish list of everything they wanted. Want to create a monster? This is a good way to do it! They begin to obsess about what they want. One of my boys would become greatly stressed about having to come up with material things he wanted because his nature is not to focus on these things. It was very uncomfortable for him. Expectations became too high to meet.

Just because something is a tradition doesn’t mean we are bound to it. Sometimes a tradition needs to change shape.

So we got rid of the Christmas wish lists. We don’t ask for them. We don’t even discuss them anymore. We did replace them with another kind of list. A treasure hunting list we are keeping for the true gifts of Christmas.

Sometimes the gifts don’t appear in plain sight. Sometimes the gifts aren’t wrapped in Pinterest posed packages. Sometimes the gifts aren’t extravagant. Sometimes the gifts are quiet, subtle, unnoticeable…..unless you are hunting for them.

The Christmas season is here. In America it can’t be missed. On one hand this leaves me grateful. On the other hand, I am saddened when I see what aspects of Christmas receive the most attention, the most hype. Typically those same things are what silently robs us of joy and leaves us panting for rest, finishing the season with a big, “Whew, we survived.”

Oh, friends, my heart is filled with this passion for honoring Christ as Christmas. He didn’t come to burden us with to-do’s. He came to do for us what we couldn’t do for ourselves.

He came to do. He doesn’t need our to-do’s.  

Instead of filling our to-do’s with finding the perfect gifts for our kids, planning magical surprises to delight, scouring social media for the latest, newest, creative expression of Christmas magic, turn it over to him. Let go of the pressure to create magic. The magic is here. Waiting to be found. Hunt for it rather than burden yourself with creating it.

The flurry of Christmas buries the gifts of Christmas. The true gifts. The gifts of hope, love, peace, and joy. So we must hunt them out.

Though we do the elf hiding, the present buying, and the party hopping, I don’t want my boys to think that is Christmas. I don’t want them to think the excitement is in the temporary. The true magic of Christmas is less obvious. It’s hidden in the humble. It’s hidden in the simple. It’s hidden in the sacrifice.

We are hunting this Christmas season. Treasure hunting for the true gifts of Christmas. Hope, love, peace, and joy. Each day we are choosing one and hunting all day long. Today is love in our home. We are looking for all the ways we received love today. We are looking for all the opportunities we have to share love today.

We are making a list, checking it more than twice.

It’s a new kind of Christmas wish list. Forget the list of what they want. Make a list of what their souls need.

I don’t want my boys spending weeks pining away over endless wants for things. Things that days after Christmas will break, be shoved under a bed, be placed in a donation box. I want them to learn to seek the gifts that matter. I want them to learn what it means to give over receiving. But I want them to experience the satisfaction of receiving the gifts that matter so they are encouraged to give that to someone else.  All in the name of Christ.

We are seeking Christmas. Truly seeking Christmas by seeking the gifts of Christmas.

Would you join us in a new, simple, tradition? A treasure hunt of daily looking for the gifts He brings and the gifts He gives us to give back out. Treasure hunting takes practice and discipline.

Find the true gifts of Christmas this season. Hope, love, peace, and joy. This trumps any Christmas magic we try to create on our own. Because it’s real, it’s lasting. It’s eternal.

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When family bonds reach outside their own

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Oscar

Photo courtesy of Disneynature

Watch this video:

http://video.disney.com/watch/oscar-looks-contemplative-4c7bca7e2269453ab4a09f37

In Chimpanzee by Disneynature, Oscar is a playful, adorable little chimp you fall in love with immediately.  His spunk mingled with tenderness captivates your heart.  He’s a baby, completely dependent on his mama, Isha, who patiently and lovingly guides and cares for her little chimp. She is his world.  “Day after day it takes a committed mom to teach him to make it in the jungle.”  Sound familiar, mamas?

When a rival chimpanzee group attacks, Oscar loses his mom, Isha.  In a moment Oscar finds himself an orphan.  No mama grooming him, no mama nursing him, no mama teaching him to crack nuts and gather food.  He is left alone.

Oscar tries to make it on his own within the group.  And like us all, he wants to be accepted.  His attempts to find a new mom left him feeling rejected and alone. He even found himself rejected by friends.  Completely alone in the world, yet surrounded by his own.  Hopeless.

Freddy is the powerful leader of the group.  Unapproachable.  Yet Freddy had his eyes on Oscar from afar.  Through an amazing turn of events, Freddy allowed Oscar to ride on his back, something only a mother would do.  Freddy began to groom little Oscar, the highest ranking member grooming the lowest.  Servanthood at its finest.  The movie described Freddy as the savior that no one could’ve expected.  Freddy adopted Oscar.  He became Oscar’s savior.

I know a Savior like that.  One who descended from Heaven in the form of a baby, an unlikely Savior for sure.  The most humble of births for a King.  One who came to serve, and serve the lowliest.  One who came so we could each be adopted into His kingdom.  Saving is His specialty.

Through my involvement with New Horizons for Children, I have seen hearts madly, deeply in love with Jesus, reaching out to save the orphans of the world- to show them their true Savior.  I have seen God perform miracles for the least of these that have radically transformed my relationship with Christ.

When you host an orphan in your home, or you meet an orphan hosted by another family, everything changes.  A face, a name, a life becomes a part of your heart.  They are no longer just a number, a statistic.  They are a human, hopeless and desperate, in need of a Savior.  In need of love and acceptance.  Aren’t we all?

Through the sale of Seeking Christmas, I am committed to donating 10% of my royalties to NHFC and orphan ministries that reach out to change the life of an orphan.

Seeking Christmas is an attempt to unite families through guided, tradition-building activities that center around Christ.  To help families reclaim Christmas in their home.  Families will cherish memories that will long outlive any material gift.

Orphans do not have families creating rich memories for them.  They aren’t experiencing the security of traditions.  My prayer is that Seeking Christmas will not only strengthen your own family, but that it will be used by God to give an orphan what no one is giving them.  The love of a family.

Baby Biscuits

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A lazy Saturday morning.  Nowhere to be, no time we must leave.  Just a lazy Saturday morning.  Sort of like I remember Saturday mornings as a kid.  This particular day was the perfect day for homemade pancakes and bacon.

Steve and Jacob went to Home Depot to gather supplies for a Saturday project.  Zachary and Andrew were slowly moving about the house.  And I was happily mixing batter relishing in the fact that I could move as slowly as I wanted.  Because we had nowhere to be.

The smell of bacon was making its way through the house, the oven fan hummed a consistent tune, and I listened and waited patiently as the cast iron griddle heated to the point of sounding off soft pops of oil.  I filled the measuring cup to pour the perfect sized pancake and quickly moved my hand over the griddle trying my best to keep all the batter on the pan.  Before I had the chance to pour the batter, a small dollop escaped the cup onto the pan.  I had already poured out the remainder of the cup onto the griddle when I realized this small circle of batter on the edge of the pan.

The slow invites the moments in, it welcomes the memories home.  The moments, the memories, they want to be cherished, remembered.  Not rushed past.

A memory was triggered.  The slow allowed me to relish in it. 

I was transported back to when I was a little girl and my mom would bring out a steaming hot batch of homemade biscuits.  My mom, hands down, makes the best biscuits I’ve ever tasted.  She was taught by my great-grandmother and my grandmother.  Sadly, I’ve tried and tried but can’t make biscuits like my mom can.  Maybe that’s the way it should be.  Maybe they should just be “Nanny’s biscuits” to my boys.  Something unique and special to her that they only get from her.  

There I sat, hair pulled in pig tails, with my eyes fixed on the plate being placed in the center of the table.  My eyes were searching for one thing and one thing only.  The baby biscuit.  It was always there.  Waiting for me.  Well, actually there were 2, one for me and one for my sister.  But I was searching for my baby biscuit. 

The baby biscuit was special.  It was tiny, drastically different from every other biscuit on the plate.  Extra thought was given to which biscuit would become my biscuit.  That small act, repeated time after time after time, took no extra effort on the part of my mom.  The message that penetrated to my heart was one of love.  To me, she took the extra step to show me she loved me and cared enough to do a little something special.

The baby biscuits never really ended either.  Weekends home from college, I still was given a baby biscuit.  In my mom’s eyes, I would always be her little girl wanting her mom’s baby biscuit.  It had become a tradition, and traditions are meant to be passed down.  If you visit my mom’s house, she has a picture frame with each of her grandbabies eating their very own baby biscuit.

Jacob and Zachary 2006

While the nostalgia was flooding me, pancakes began stacking high on the plate.  Boys began wandering in questioning how much longer they must be tortured by the smells they couldn’t escape.  Jokingly, I handed Andrew the “mistake” pancake.  The baby pancake.  I expected him to moan and complain that it was too little and he wanted a bigger one.  Instead, his little eyes lit up at his “special” pancake.

It’s true what they say, it really is the little things that count.  The little moments, the little traditions, the little memories, the little biscuits, and the little pancakes.  It’s the little things.  The little things make big impressions.

Traditions don’t have to be monumental events.  Sometimes the most heartwarming of traditions come in the smallest packages.  Like that of a baby biscuit.

Chores, A Tradition? Part Two

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Today’s post is a follow-up to the previous post, Chores, A Tradition?  Part One.

I mentioned that we have started and stopped many different chore systems in our home.  We have used chore charts, we have used online chore sites, we have used the index card system.  You name it, we have likely tried it.  Each system seems to work great for a time, then gradually fades away until we are back to me doing the bulk of the work.  I also mentioned that one reason our systems didn’t last long had to do with the fact that we assigned chores that would go unnoticed if not completed.  Or they were so small, I would just do it myself rather than call the boys back to complete the job.  No one wins this way.  The kids weren’t being trained to do a job completely, their work ethic was not being developed the way we would hope, and quite frankly, I found myself bitterly muttering, “Why am I constantly cleaning up after everyone in this house?”

Raise your hand if you like a nagging wife or mom?  That is what I thought.  Who wants to be around someone like that?  I didn’t like to hear myself sound like that.  Nagging is not known to create family harmony.

So here is what we came up with:

  1. Using library card style envelopes, I labeled each one with a child’s name.
  2. Next I tacked them to our organization wall, aka family command center.
  3. Using popsicle sticks, we labeled chores to each one.  (My crafty friends are cringing right now.  I’m more about efficiency and getting the job done than how things look.  That’s why there is chocolate and vanilla, right?  If you prefer a more crafty look, these chore craft sticks are all over Pinterest.  Some very elaborate ones that I just didn’t have time to create.  Ours seem to get the job done just fine.)  We have actually added more chores to these sticks, which do not include their personal hygiene chores.
  4. Taking turns the boys chose their chore stick until all chores were assigned.
  5. Once they had all their sticks, they placed them in their assigned envelopes (just in case they forgot throughout the week whose chore belonged to who)

For now, it works.  Let’s see if we can make this one last!