I shouldn’t be writing in the same room as the homemade caramel popcorn, yet here we are. I have some “free” time and I’m conflicted so I’m writing. I should be wrapping presents, or putting away the dirty dishes, or something productive. This is my last day before winter break. Soon both kiddos will be with me 24/7 for three, count ‘em, 3 whole weeks. God, I want to clean. No, I want to purge. There’s so much stuff in the house right now and my anxiety and irritability are getting harder and harder to hide.
The house is filled with holiday things. There’s the decorations and the tree and the 5,000 crafts that the kids are bringing home from school. There’s the presents for everyone and the wrapping paper and bags and tissue and cards and stamps and tins full of treats. (Admittedly, there’s now less of the caramel popcorn.) All of this on top of a home that was full of things already. I want to purge. I want to go through each room, every drawer, every closet and get rid of anything we don’t need. Why are we living with so much stuff? I want to keep enough. Just enough. Like our towels. We have the perfect amount of towels. There’s enough for each of us, a few extra for guests or accidents or going to the beach, and they all fit on their shelf with room to spare. I am never stressed about our towels.
The anxiety is becoming overwhelming. There’s stuff everywhere. And we’re just adding to it. DAILY we are ordering some new gift as the kids change their minds about what they want. Every hour there’s some new deal to scoop up, like we don’t have enough already. Like all good parents, we want Christmas to be fun and full of love and surprises. I think we’ve gone overboard. We’re trying to fulfill their hopes and dreams, to bring them joy, and to show our love. But this season is also about peace and our lack of it signals we might have wandered a bit from the true meaning of Christmas. Our son is 6 and seems to be insatiable these days. The list of toys he wants has no end. Also, he’s eating everything. We watched him eat half a pepperoni and sausage pizza for dinner. When we finished, we saw some friends who decided to eat at the burger joint next door, so we joined them. Our son proceeded to eat an entire hamburger! I mean, I expected this, but when he’s 16 not 6.
I can’t picture where all this stuff is going to go. I should just start cleaning, but where? I hate this part of the holidays. What’s holy about all this shopping? What’s joy, really, if there’s no peace? In Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman,” Sandman is one of the seven Endless – characters who embody major forces in the universe. The youngest Endless is Delight, a young girl who, due to some unknown trauma, has become Delirium. I think she’s running the holidays. Without peace, the joy, the delight of making Christmas merriment becomes delirium. Surely, I’m not the only one feeling unmoored, surrounded by what was wonderful but has become crushing. How is this about remembering what has already been done for us in Christ Jesus? What does it really mean to celebrate Christmas? I don’t know and I can’t think about it with all this stuff around me.