Every year on Christmas Eve, I nestle into my couch and watch A Christmas Story, the heartwarming tale of young Ralphie and his desire to get a Red Rider bb gun for Christmas. With only weeks until Christmas morning, Ralphie and his family stumble on adventure after adventure in their 1940’s suburbia.

Ralphie’s father wins a major award, which turns out to be a lamp shaped like a woman’s leg in fishnet pantyhose. As the father plugs in his major award he pulls up a daisy chain of plugs and wires coming from the only outlet in the wall. He looks for an empty space in the chain, counts the plugs, and finally says, “Well, something has to go!”

I see that scene as a metaphor for the holiday season. I have one month- one definite rigid allotment of days and hours- that I cannot add to in any way. It’s one outlet, so to speak. Yet from the Monday before Thanksgiving to the day after New Year I keep adding and splicing. Until there’s a daisy chain of plans precariously strung together into a potential fire hazard.

Sometimes it’s like every minute of every day is spoken for with each group in my life throwing its own Christmas party. Where I’m expected to bring “a little something.” AKA spend the part of the day I’m not at the party cooking or baking for the party. Not to mention school, laundry, all the other times people expect to eat, or basic hygiene. Of course there’s the decorating, the shopping, the wrapping, the reconnecting with old friends, and the little traditions I have with my kids.

After a few weeks of that, the sparks start to fly as the daisy chain falls apart. I’m headed for a burn out. When I look at my cold cup of coffee, brewed an hour ago, and remember the one sip I got before it reached such a sad state, I say to myself, “Well, something has to go.”

Boundaries

This Christmas season I spent a lot of time thinking about what matters and what causes break down. I made a point to put boundaries up in order to protect what matters from what’s destructive.

Boundaries are important in every season, but sometimes I think they are twice as important during the holiday season. This time of year is fraught with emotional pressure, high expectations, and the potential for a weighty guilt trip.

However, since I took the time to consider my boundaries I was able to make clear choices about what I wanted to invest my time and emotions into ahead of time. No amount of pressure has been able to overturn those decisions.

I know where my emotions are and where they are going, so the emotional pressure lost its oomph. I set up realistic expectations for the energy and time that I have, so any other expectations (high or otherwise) have received a polite “Sorry, no.” Thankfully, I have not encountered the weighty guilt trip this year. But if I had I think I would have smiled, waved, and said, “Have a nice trip.” As they pulled out of the station that is my attention.

No Can Be Positive

The experience of making my choices ahead of time, setting my boundaries, and saying no has been a liberating one. The shopping I have done has been delightful, sometimes with company and sometimes alone. One room is decorated in our house, and it’s really only a few things here and there other than the tree. I am going to one Christmas party (gasp!) and I plan to enjoy every minute of it. Because I won’t be exhausted with the rich food and small talk of ten other parties. Christmas itself and the weekend leading up to it is reserved for family.

Thanks to saying no to 90% of the holiday season, I have time to sit with my kids in the evening. I rarely have the luxury of sitting next to my husband, but he’s there somewhere in the mix. The kids decompress from their day, and I relax. We might read a story together, or watch part of a Christmas movie. What we do doesn’t really matter. It’s the time unspoken for that is left to spend on each other.

Presence

Within these little margins of time I can give my attention to the kids, and my husband. When I am with my friends, I’m actually with them. Rather than the alternative of being near them while I plan out the next thing or two, without really listening.

I find that I have the wherewithal to make time to spend with God. In years past I was too busy to take a minute and focus on the Person I’m so busy celebrating. I know that’s why people love to make little reminders like, “Don’t forget the reason for the season!” But those don’t work for me. The catchy reminder itself becomes another distraction, another source of anxiety.

When I have the time to be in the presence of Jesus I use it to read my bible or stream worship services. Then the catchphrases don’t catch. I can’t feel the silent judgement laced within the memes, because the love of Jesus covers me like mithril (The impenetrable metal fabric Frodo wears in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings).

As a matter of fact, the love of Jesus only strengthens my resolve to continue my campaign for saying no to the usual Christmas frenzy. It enables me to stand by my decisions because I’m not getting my personal validation from how good I am at “doing Christmas.” My security and worth comes from Jesus.

In a way, making time to spend in the presence of Jesus during Christmas allows me to emulate baby Jesus from the Christmas story. He came. He was here. Jesus was present. Jesus took in everything that night had to offer without forcing it to be more than it was.

It is when I am present with Jesus, that I find my Jesus-mithril. In that quiet moment hiding amongst the swirl I know Jesus came to love the actual me, I can let go of the driving insecurity. I can open my eyes and be present with the people I love.

Positive Doesn’t Mean Perfect

I’m not saying it’s been a perfect December with no problems in it. My four year old is still strongly opposed to leaving the house every morning for school drop off. One kid still got strep. School is still treating the last week like round two of spirit week with a Christmas theme.

But you know what? Because I set up boundaries and left margin I can cope with the four year old without blowing a gasket. I spent a day on the couch with my sick kid watching TV and eating soft cold stuff without a whiff of panic. I faced Christmas-spirit week with a laugh and a shrug. It’s not easy, but it also isn’t the end of the holiday world. It isn’t easy, it’s good.

Like Jesus, I have been present for it all. The good, the frustrating, the mundane, I’ve taken it all in. It’s been one of the best holiday seasons yet, definitely more stable, and all thanks to “No.”