No-Shopping December

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My mind was turning during November . . . contemplating how much of my thought life is caught up in consuming.

I used to think it was a shameful thing that I liked shopping.

Okay, this was back in the day when I thought it was embarrassing to admit that I liked a boy, secretly liked pink but dressed in black instead, and thought I had to cover my derriere with oversized clothing because I didn’t know what the heck was up with this “being a girl” and “having a butt” thing.

Now, I can unashamedly say: I enjoy shopping.

(And I’m not disturbed by having a butt either–I’ve really matured that way. Yep.)

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

(The butt or the shopping.)

But there comes a point when it (the shopping) takes up too much brain power. Too much emotion. Too much thought-time.

Whether I’m shopping for myself, shopping for Alice or my husband, buying Christmas presents (which I finished buying in October–my favorite way to reduce stress during the actual holidays), shopping for our home, for something that would make hosting easier, for a baby shower or pregnant friend–there’s a lot of shopping that can potentially happen.

And one day in mid-November I realized it was consuming too much of me. It was becoming . . . dare I say . . . an idol. Something that gave me good feelings, something that (for example) I did on a certain day I was super stressed in order to deal.

Instead of turning to the strength of God, I turned to shopping.

Ugh! Can you believe I even said that?

Hmm . . . I can.

Anyway.

I don’t want to be the person who does emotional shopping, or who thinks about physical goods so much of the time. And especially now that we’re immersed in the holiday season, I also don’t want to be the person who misses the real celebration of Christ’s birth because she’s all caught up in materialism. So I decided–from what I think was a prompting of the Spirit–to abstain from shopping during the month of December. Of course I’ll buy groceries and associated things (shampoo, dishwasher soap, and the like)–but that’s it. I’ve started a fast to create more space in my heart to celebrate God. Christ’s birth. Family–both our physical and spiritual family. My marriage. My beautiful, growing daughter.

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It’s not about the money–I’m not worried about that (and what a reason to be thankful!). It’s about my heart, my brain, my state of mind. My freedom. And I’m learning that to live freely there is a big amount of self control that comes in to play. And my self control is in need of a nice, month-long workout.

And because saying “I won’t do this” is only half the issue, instead, I want to turn December into a month of giving and actually do something to take the place of what I’m giving up. It might be baking cookies for someone. Finding a way to serve those in need. I’ll give up something superficial in order to be able to give something more profound. Maybe this can be a thing every December–I’m already looking forward to engaging Alice in this project when she’s old enough. We’ll see. For now, here’s to a month of joyful giving rather than selfish consuming.

I still love ThredUP and will return there sometime in 2014. I don’t think shopping is the devil–I will probably always enjoy it. But, at the risk of sounding extreme, I do think it can be a tool of evil in our hearts. So I’m looking forward to this exercise. It will be a good stretch for the soul.

Love you guys!

What NOT to give someone for Christmas

I received a beautifully wrapped gift a few Christmases ago from someone who shall not be named. (Don’t worry–this is an acquaintance, and there is NO WAY he or she reads my blog. Um, I hope.) It had some heft to it, and based on the rectangular shape I figured maybe it was an awesome board game. Or a carved tray. Or something cool.

Then I opened it.

And it was . . .

. . . yes. A larger-than-life bar of chocolate.

“But how great is that!” you may be thinking.

Let me clarify–these weren’t individually sized pieces of chocolate, ideal for consumption. This was one bar. Many, many pounds of chocolate, forged together into an unbreakable, un-bite-able plank. Entirely impractical for the following reasons:

1) You need special equipment to cut this thing. No ordinary knife was going to do the job.

2) How do you store it? Er . . . with a whole roll of plastic wrap?

3) Breaking off pieces would result in mess, mess, mess, with tiny chocolate shavings festooning the whole area.

4) It weighs a ton. And doesn’t fit easily in a cupboard. Or in any Ziploc bag I’ve ever seen.

5) Who eats that much chocolate???

Anyway, it was going to take way too much work to deal with this thing. Way too much trouble–and yet I couldn’t throw the thing away, because then I’d have guilt all over my face next time I saw this person. All I could think of was how to get rid of this thing as quickly as possible. Our next social event was a little Christmas party for our Bible study, at the home of Joe and Kathy. Joe and Kathy also happen to have 5 kids. I quickly hatched a plan to foist this bar of chocolate on them. Either directly, or by hiding it in the pile of presents under their tree.

I showed it to our small group and David, our Bible study leader, examined the monster.

It’s bigger than his head!

Way bigger.

We soon determined that someone needed to try to take a bite. That special someone was going to be Carrie.

I don’t remember if she was willing, or if my aggressive side came out and forced her hand.

Go Carrie go!

That girl is fearless.

And she has nice teeth.

Why can’t I have nice teeth like that?

Anyway, if she keeps gnawing on that chocolate she ain’t gonna have nice teeth for long.

So the conclusion of this little piece of Christmas history is this: unless you know that the giftee is planning a fondue party for 50 the following day, please think twice before purchasing a bar of chocolate of this magnitude for anyone.