the most wonderful time of the year

This year, we lingered at the Thanksgiving table forever, and it was late in the day when we finally patted our satiated stomachs; hours before I had loosened my belt.

We had shared our gratitude lists, some had returned to the kitchen for seconds (maybe even thirds), and we were wearing the paper crowns that came out of the poppers – long since popped. I wanted to hold on, savoring this stretch of time, cozy and warm and surrounded by family and friends.

But alas, now we find ourselves breathless, muscles flexed and careening into a very different kind of stretch of time - that period between Thanksgiving and Christmas (or any holiday one celebrates in December) which has often been described as a sprint. 

And this sprint - this sweaty, exhausting mad dash dressed in high heels and a necktie - can feel frenetic and stressful, but also wonderful and kind. It can be generous and sacred and social and sad.  But no matter how it may feel…it goes by quickly.

One minute I am watching football from the family room couch – completely and utterly stuffed - and the next I am opening a gift beneath a delightfully decorated tree, dressed in my best Christmas pajamas. 

And although I may feel slightly relieved (I made it!), I also wonder - how did I get here? And did I enjoy it?

Every year, I promise myself this year will be different. With proper forethought (early gift buying and obtaining the elusive holiday card picture during the summer months), I might actually enjoy the most wonderful time of the year. 

But as a procrastinator and perfectionist, and perhaps just a tad organizationally deficient, I struggle.

I struggle to get all of it “right” (or at least my version of right). The decorations, the thank yous, the gifts, the social engagements, the outfits. I want the busy to be flawless and the moments to be blessed, but in doing so, I wind up feeling more stressed than merry.

I heard a Nick Saban (Roll Tide – sorry Auburn fans) quote the other day that really resonated with me:

“People want to focus on outcomes, and I think outcomes are a bit of a distraction.”

Of course, he was talking about the outcome of a football game, but so much of our holiday efforts also have everything to do with an intended result.  

We crave the delight of a child ripping open a beautifully wrapped and bowed gift (which we finished perfecting at 2 am), or the subtle look of a garland which sits “effortlessly” on a mantle, or the thousands of small white lights (please God protect the grid) sparkling in so many trees, or an eloquent note of thanks that speaks to the recipient’s heart.

There is an end game - a finish line in sight - and we will reach it (unless we are strangled by said small white lights in the process of detangling them). But chasing that perfect outcome can make the entire process, this wonderful time of year, daunting.

So what would it look like if we could eliminate the distraction Coach Saban spoke about, and in doing so, focus less on things that need to get done - and how they are done - and more on the people that we love? I believe Saban might say that it is all about the team that we are building.

Because the cards and the white lights and wrapping are nice - certainly they set the stage for the wonderful this time of year - but Christmas and Hanukkah and Kwanzaa will happen even without them (just ask the Grinch).

Because the real heart, the love, the sacred and spirit is found in those stretches of time - those paper crown moments - when time is suspended, and we realize how grateful we are for our team and our community, and we pause to consider those across the globe who may be experiencing life very differently. We linger long after our plates are clean because we have the luxury to do so.

And that is the merry and the magic and the wonderful of this time of year.

May you enjoy that.