Holiday-Hoobity-Whatty?

Christmastime, Christmastime, Christmastime. I can’t help but allow the overwhelming fear of failure in the region of gift giving dominate my thoughts whenever I remember that the month is currently December. But then I’m reminded that I get to make festive cookies and hang out with lady friends in the kitchen and this time of year is redeemed. Also, I invite friends to our Christmas services throughout the month and hope that the heavy effect of the beauty of Christ’s coming will be that which God uses to soften the hearts of sinners like me, graciously bringing them into his eternal kingdom.

I really do love Christmas. I love the jolliness, the candy, cookies, lights, trees, and mostly the gospel and it’s exuberance this time of year. I just hate presents. I mean, I’m a chick so I obviously love presets (he who gifts me a husband will get front row seats to our wedding; seriously you can sit in front of my parents) so by all means, please do not withhold them this year. But when it comes to blessing others with thoughtful, deliciously wrapped boxes of joy my brains cry and so do my eye balls. Much like no one else, gift giving is NOT an expression of my care for a person. I’d much rather hang out and have delightful, learning-more-about-you kind of convos while eating Mexican food, of course.

The Tuesday before Christmas will be our Community Group Christmas party, Gift Exchange included. Eff (that’s my attempt at communicating the frustration that is worthy of swear words but since I’m a lady and I love Jesus and want to honor him with my words, I’ll only pretend to swear because He doesn’t know my heart…eff). We decided who’d be gifting which friend with the drawing of stockings. I picked out Michael Posey’s stocking. The thought of deciding on what to buy with our ten dollar spending cap makes my mind dry, much of how it usually is but this time there's the added pressure in knowing that my intentions effect another. I did think it would be funny to give him Rogaine, just for kicks. But Morgan confirmed that that would be mean (she didn’t tell me it would be mean to publicize my idea, sorry Po).

Hopefully I’ll think of something good soon. Until then I’ll watch Jim Carrey’s ever-entertaining version of The Grinch. And pray.