Finding Christ in Christmas.

I pondered in the stillness, cuddled on the cushions of my white couch. It was late October and Christmas felt just around the corner. This year I determined to keep Christmas centered on Christ. As I gazed out the window, I briefly recalled Christmases past....

I remember the Christmas when I spent dozens of hours creating two twin quilts for my toddler boys. It started as an act of love, but as the days turned into weeks, and my boys watched movies while I painstakingly picked out stitches, measured endless yards of fabric, and hummed that little sewing machine for all it was worth, I realized how very much I disliked sewing and how very much time I was not spending playing with my little boys. It broke my heart and I vowed to never repeat that season.

Another Christmas, guilt consumed me because with all the festive traditions of cookie-making, light-seeing, gift-giving, and Christmas-caroling, I couldn't keep up. I thought I should do all of these amazing traditions and I over-packed our days like a too-small gift box. Most of the well-intentioned activities I had planned fell by the wayside. I felt like a failure, and I promised myself that a too-busy Christmas wouldn't happen again.

Last Christmas I felt stirrings in my heart to make the season memorable and joyful. But discouragement and discontent crept into the corners of my heart and all I could think about was how my walls were the wrong color, my decor wasn't fitting, and how my house didn't feel like home. This was the worst Christmas of all.

But this year, I vowed, this year would be different. Despite our crazy autumn packed to the brim, Christmas glimmered off in the distant December with a promise of hope.

To read the rest of my post and discover how I am intentionally creating more joy & peace in our Christmas, take a stroll over to Simply For Real, where I am guest posting today. 

A "Less is More" Christmas

Today, on this lovely Monday morning, I have the special privilege of introducing Lynnette Sheppard who has kindly agreed to guest post here at Writing in the Stillness. 

Lynnette Sheppard lives in Arizona with her husband and five children. She loves chocolate, sunshine, trying new recipes, and curling up with a good book. She encourages others to live authentic, intentional lives that are grounded in roots of faith and simplicity on her blog, Simply for Real. You can find her on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

How a “Less is More” Christmas Can Joyfully Transform the Holidays

I come from a family where Christmas was a huge production. The grand finale featured a mountain of presents that sometimes reached almost halfway up the tree. As a child, I looked forward to it all year long.

I cannot deny that the magic was real for me back then. I could not wait to sneak out before Mom and Dad woke up on Christmas morning and attempt to count the number of gifts that had my name on them. That was usually an exercise in futility because there were so many brightly wrapped packages arranged around the majestic tree, but that did not stop me from trying.

There were many years where money was tight, but that did not necessarily result in fewer presents. It only meant that thrift and creativity was used in the acquisition of that enchanting mountain. It was the one time during the year when we were rather spoiled.

I remember feeling sorry for my friend one year because she only got one gift when I could not even name everything that I got without looking at the stash. I was sure that she was deprived of the Christmas magic that I had grown to love. For me, that magic consisted of stuff…and lots of it.

However, I also remember that, despite the amount of time, thought, effort, creativity, and money that my parents invested in order to make Christmas big and memorable, it seemed like there was always somebody unhappy after all of the gifts were opened because they did not get what they wanted. I felt bad for my parents when that happened, but I brushed those feelings aside when I looked at my own stack of gifts.

Many years later, when I had young children of my own, my husband and I decided that we no longer wanted to carry on the tradition of big Christmases. While we loved it as children, as adults we did not enjoy the frenzied shopping, endless wrapping, and staying up late on Christmas Eve to make sure that everything was perfect.

But, more than that, we did not enjoy watching our kids open one gift, look at if for a moment, and then toss it aside like it was no big deal while they waited for us to hand them something else. We wanted them to be grateful for what they received, and we knew of no better way to teach them that than to give them less.

From that point on, we told the kids (the oldest of which was eight at the time) that they would only receive one present from Santa and one present from Mom and Dad. That was in addition to a pair of new Christmas PJ’s, one new book each, and one gift from the family member who drew their name out of hat. The pile of gifts under the tree on Christmas morning became significantly smaller, and that was a beautiful thing.

The best part, however, was that the beauty extended beyond the number of presents. Not only did I feel like the kids started to appreciate their gifts a whole lot more, but we all began to enjoy the events of season more than we had in the past. Fewer gifts translated into fewer hours spent shopping and agonizing about whether we had enough. It meant that we spent much less time wrapping, and late nights on Christmas Eve with a roll of wrapping paper and tape in hand were only a memory. It meant that we worried less about how we were going to hide everything in order to keep little eyes from seeing their surprises before Christmas morning. At the end of the day, less time spent in the pursuit of stuff resulted in considerably less worry and stress surrounding the holidays.

Although the month of December will never be void of busyness, especially now that our kids are older and have their own busy schedules, our deliberate decision to simplify our gift giving has really simplified our whole approach to the holidays. It has indirectly created more time and energy to do the things that we love: watching Christmas movies, reading Christmas stories, attending concerts and plays, enjoying the magnificent lights and sounds, cooking, eating, spending time with friends and family, and focusing on the birth of Christ, which is, after all, the real reason for the season.

Because it has made a huge difference in our family, I wholeheartedly recommend a minimalist approach to Christmas for anyone who tends to feel more overwhelmed than joyful at this time of year. Less is truly more: more gratitude, more energy, more joy, and more time to focus on what matters most.

Seeking Peace.

There are just over two weeks until Christmas and all I can think about is writing "peace."

But how can I even think about writing peace when I can hardly find it amidst the afternoon chaos? Coats and backpacks are all entangled and littered on the ground, accompanied with corrected homework sheets, school newsletters and the like spread out over counter, table, and couch. I see markers under the table and coloring pages lying in piles on shelves. Everywhere I look there are paper airplanes and half-finished origami creations resting like tufts of snow. Everyone needs me at once so I can listen to their read-aloud books and sight word sheets and help with story pre-writing. Where in all of this can peace be found?

We stumble along, getting everything sorted, but after an hour I can feel my patience growing thin and I know I need to escape for just a bit. It doesn't seem practical when there's so much to be done, but it might just be life-giving. 

So with the remnants of clutter tossed, and most of the homework tucked away, the little ones go upstairs to rest with a short movie and I retreat to my bedroom. 

I fall onto my bed and let my eyes close. I take a moment to just breathe. 

I breathe in gratitude for my oldest boy who is so responsible and talented. 

I breathe out all the anxiety. 

I breathe in love for my firecracker princess and breathe out overwhelm. 

I breathe in thanks for my middle son's easygoing nature and breathe out the noisy chaos. 

I breathe in appreciation for my home with its simple white decor and vintage charm.
I breathe out any lingering unhappiness. 

I breathe in pure awe and gratitude for my Savior, Jesus Christ, whose spirit fills my home and the deepest corners of my heart.
I breathe out all remnants of distress. 

It's okay to let everything go. It's okay to give your day to the Redeemer so He can redeem you from burdened to blessed. 

And I realize this: Peace is never far away when you realize your peace comes from Christ. 

When the movie is over and my respite is ended, I return to my family with smiling eyes and a peaceful heart. I resolve anew to take a small break of spiritual whitespace on a regular basis to restore my center--my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I also commit to remembering that this peaceful center, this hub of the wheel that can only be found in Christ, can be a resting place even when I can't retreat. If I rest my heart on Him, His peace can be found even in the midst of a struggle. When the afternoon becomes an avalanche, I will draw upon my center, my firm foundation in Christ. Therein I will find everlasting peace.

So go to Him in the quiet moments and in the busy ones too. Breathe in His peace as you tuck little ones in, or peel carrots for the soup, or referee the endless quarrels. Breathe in His peace at any moment, at any time. And let His peace wrap your heart in wonder...

{I'm linking up to #onewordadvent over at Bonnie Gray's blog. I was beyond thrilled to create this week's hand-lettered badge for her link-up!}