Gifts of the Heart

 Staring at the Christmas tree, my eyes fill with tears. I'm reminded of a song that's become especially dear to me in this holiday season... lyrics that speak of the passing of time, how memories pop up during this time of year, bringing with them a little loneliness and longing. How a moment takes one by surprise and brings a tear as nostalgia for old times as you knew them sets in: people you loved, traditions you miss, places no longer part of your world. That's been how I've felt lately. In the wake of so much heavy, my mind has run back to times past and made me miss certain people or places or things that used to anchor me that are now only memories of the past. For some reason, it's like the grief has hit me harder than normal and that song - oh, that sweet song - has really spoken for me all the things I'm feeling in the heart. 

A family member asked the other day if I want anything in particular for Christmas this year and, in one quick second, the dam broke and I broke and the tears fell and I simply said, The things I'm longing most for this year are things that aren't possible. I don't want a bunch of stuff. Rather, I wish my grandma was here to share in the publishing of my new book. I wish the kind of friendship I enjoyed with my best friend Alex wasn't just a thing of the past - that people still gave that kind of intentionality and kept it up for a lifetime. I wish the years of singing in church choir as a child weren't presently being locked in the memory vault this way because the teacher I adored in those days now has Alzheimers and may soon not even remember me. I'm wishing four families I know still had their loved ones with them for the holidays this year. I'm wishing for things that money can't buy. Gifts of the heart and not just presents under the tree.

As I grow older, I'm realizing just how precious are the things that require no expense but every bit of time, energy, and intention. So many things - a smile, a hug, a deep conversation over things that matter, a cup of tea, a movie enjoyed by the fireside, cooking with family in the kitchen, sending a card to a loved one, making room to breathe and enjoy the gift of life, gratefulness for simply waking up today - they don't cost a dime but they'll also cost you everything because they'll ask you to go against the trends and the hustle and dare to create something bigger and more meaningful than just a pile of stuff that eventually wears out. 

I went on to tell my relative that I don't mind a little gift here and there. There's something about someone who knows you well giving the perfect little thing at the just right time and making you feel loved. Or someone being God's hands and feet to come through with something you desperately need and they get to be your living miracle. I'm all for these kinds of moments - because of the bonds they foster and the memories they create. But joining the bustle and chasing the deals and feeling the pressure to pack the floor with things that aren't meant to last and neglecting the real things that are somehow feels wrong. Like we've lost something sacred. Like we've given up the gift of presence for presents and have let go of the greatest gift we have besides the Gift Himself - the gift of each other. 

My heart just wants to freeze the frame this year. To stop the spinning hands of time and just savor that we've made it to another Christmas once again. I've passed up most of the Black Friday deals and Cyber Monday coupons. Deleted dozens of enticing emails from my inbox because it isn't where my heart is anymore. Instead, my heart is with those I know whose holidays look a little different this year because someone special isn't with them anymore. My heart is sitting with the reality that life is always changing and the only thing we can count on is that the One who came in a manger eventually went to the cross and now holds the universe in place while also holding my heavy heart. 

As I hang the ornaments on boughs of green, I'm reminded of all the memories these balls of glass and wood and color hold. And that simply being together and giving the present of our presence is the most amazing thing we could ever do for one another. We don't have to wrap a ton of gifts and use something tangible as evidence that we love well. We don't even need to spend a bunch of money to prove to another their value to us or to earn their trust. We just need to show up as did the Messiah - humbly, quietly, intentionally. Just as He chose to set aside the grand gestures of how a King should come, maybe we need to consider scaling back a little so that we can give the things that really matter and last a lifetime. 

Truthfully, it's not the things we do at Christmastime that make all the difference but the meaningful things we give of ourselves all year long that mean the most. Maybe this can be the year that we give more gifts of the heart. As I stare into the twinkle of lights and the sparkle of decorations, I can only hope this will be the case.