When FOMO Threatens Your Christmas

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonight. 

-O Little Town of Bethlehem

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 

-The Apostle Paul, 2nd Corinthians 3:17, ESV

REAL TALK. Christmas edition. 

Last night, I was super struggling with some Major FOMO* and its ugly cousin, Straight-Up Jealousy. I was leafing through Facebook, because that’s definitely NOT going to be a problem this time of year. Insert Eye Roll. Our budgets are tight this year (when are they not? Oh, and by budgets, I don’t mean just monetary. Energy and health-wise AS WELL), and I’m not even sure if we’re doing anything beyond putting the tree up and playing with the Little People Nativity set. Like, ANYTHING. Our tree is fake and we order presents on Amazon. So when Facebook shows me a beautiful array of dozens of Christmas tree hunts, dazzling Christmas light shows, frozen Christmas parades, and sweet Christmas cookie exchanges, I’m like whoa. Where was the time found to even get that done, on top of normal life living stuff? I mean, it’s only been December for about 5 seconds. So, like a normal person, I just sat on my couch and felt SAD AND SMALL AND SORRY FOR MYSELF. Oh, and it was felt in all-caps, I assure you. 

IS THIS WHAT CHRISTMAS IS ALL ABOUT, CHARLIE BROWN. 

I ASK YOU. 

Because it feels like everyone is out being CHRISTMASY and living SEASONALLY, and here I am, in my own particular set of limitations, struggling to get up and make dinner and make sure there’s clean underwear for tomorrow. Fibromyalgia and endometriosis take up so much of my time, I joke that I actually have more than one child to take care of. Well, it’s a joke and not a joke, if you get me. 

I have been thinking about that word, limitation, lately. Well, sometimes when I get a thought to myself, in the beautiful and giggly chaos that IS having a toddler. Mostly I hate all the limitations I have. The physical ones and the money ones and all the ones in between. They make me have to WAIT, something I’m quite terrible at. They make me slow down, something I’d rather not do, thank-you-very-much. They make me feel small next to my busy generation, which is invalidating. They make me have to prioritize, when I’d rather just have and do it all. 

Waiting. 

Slowing down. 

Feeling small. 

Prioritizing. 

When I look at this list, I feel annoyed. TO BE HONEST. This isn’t the To-Do List I had in mind for this season. But on better days, I can see it as a gift. Especially during this Advent season, which is all about the wait, isn’t it? I am forced to wait and slow down and prioritize. Even feeling small is a gift when it means I can have a proper perspective of myself in the world, when I can think of others as better than myself, as indeed I am called to, as a believer in Christ. I can only think this way because I am deeply loved by Christ, and that’s more than enough to sustain. It’s the only thing that can erase the fear of missing out. His love is the only thing that can redeem our smallness, our longing in the middle of waiting. It will allow us to give what we can, out of those very limitations and even brokenness. 

So if you’re feeling small this season, if you’re wondering if you should be doing more, if you’re feeling like the To-Do List will never be conquered, if your heart is longing for more this season, you’re actually in the right place. 

When we’re forced to wait, when there is no other choice but to slow down,we can begin to see it as a gift. Let Christ come to you, to me, in all our weary waiting. He is gentle with us. He is aware of all our limitations, and He wants to be our Great Helper. We wouldn’t see how we need Him, this Savior who was born to us in the city of David, if we didn’t have these limitations. These limitations can serve to remove our blinders of false productivity, of false busy-ness, of false hopes. When we actually accept our limitations, we can see how unlimited our Christ is, and the fears of all the years will certainly be met in Him. Our worries and fears will disappear in His great joy and delight in us, as we make room for Him. 

So I’ll be taking this Christmas thing one day at a time, just like I do in all the other seasons (although not always gracefully). I’ll be weighing what’s doable, what’s manageable, and what’s life-giving. I’ll be asking what I can give, in my limitations. And that will be enough and I won't have to compare my schedule to my neighbor's. I’ll pray that disappointments and all the waiting will only bring me closer to Christ and to His kingdom and to His people. As we celebrate His birth and the glorious realization of God being with us in our humanity, let’s rest and be refreshed in His limitless joy. 

*Fear of Missing Out; aka POSSIBLY THE WORST THING EVER WHEN YOU HAVE NO PLANS

We have a Very Helpful Toddler-Decorator this year. 

Bethlehem can be a crazy place. 

You can't see the mess jusssst outside the frame.  Hee hee. 

Motherhood and the Singing of Grace

Come, Thou fount of every blessing

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace

-Hymn

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. 

-Jesus, John 15:5

There’s a lot about being a mom NO ONE TELLS YOU. 

Like, how it now takes 3 hours to watch a 45 minute episode. 

Or about the FLUID. Oh, the fluid. So much of life now is about the FLUID. 

Or how you develop laser eyesight in the darkest of nights, searching for a fallen pacifier for your desperate infant. And your own desperate self. 

Or how 3 in the morning feels much the same as 3 in the afternoon. 

Or how you will cry more than your baby over trying to get her to eat. 

Or how you don’t really mind all the poops and diaper changes.

Or how you can live off your baby’s smiles FOR DAYS. 

Tonight I was dead tired. Like, so tired. I haven’t slept for a full night since the SPRING OF THIS YEAR. AND IT’S PRACTICALLY CHRISTMAS, PEOPLE. It’s just better not to think about it. And for the countless time, I had to go wash a sink full of bottle parts and pump parts because this is my life now and for the foreseeable future. WHEN ALL I WANT TO DO IS WATCH TV. That’s really ALLLLLLL I WANT TO DO. And eat snacks. My desires are oh so simple now. Oh, wait, that’s all I ever really wanted to do before…ahem. 

But alas. My task was in front of me—the approximately 2432587235 bottle and pump parts to wash. I stood in front of the sink, waiting for the water to heat up. And I had to while the Daughter napped. THIS WAS MY WINDOW. 

And a strange thing happened.

In spite of my aching exhaustion, in spite of just needing to zone out, in spite of feeling generally discouraged, I felt the urge to SING. 

Oh yes, that’s another thing they don’t tell you. 

As soon as they hand that baby to you, you become a freaking SINGER and SONGSTRESS. It’s innate. It’s inevitable. And thankfully, my daughter has a father who is NOT tune-deaf and can teach her to sing correctly. Her mother, on the other hand, loves singing but it’s a total happy accident if she sings in tune. 

Anyway, I’ve been singing pretty solidly for 6 months now. In the beginning, it was old Keith Green songs and hymns, as those were all I could remember at 2 in the morning. Now I’ve STUDIED UP and can sing some more common lullabies and baby songs, and let me tell you, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and You are My Sunshine are BIG hits around here. Also, Good Morning from Singin’ in the Rain, because this is ME we’re talking about. 

So there I am, the hot water spilling out of the tap, and suddenly, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing starting spilling out too. And as I sang to myself about Jesus seeking me when I was a stranger, and rescuing me from danger, and how great a debtor I am to His grace, and asking Him to seal my heart for His courts above, my super annoying and very repetitive task wasn’t the worst. And my exhaustion, a very real thing, wasn’t too much. As I reminded myself about His gospel, His good news, I remembered that it’s good news for me now. 

In this new season of life. For a tired new mama with fibromyalgia and a million things to do and think and worry about. The gospel of Jesus—the news that God loves me, a sinner, and invites me into His kingdom—is a refreshing wind, a long and peaceful and deep exhale. As I moved into O Holy Night, I was more at peace. Not because anything had really changed. I’m still going to have to wash these finicky plastic pieces many more times. I’m still going to be exhausted for what feels like FOREVER. I’m still surrounded by temptation to worry and fret and complain about hard things. But the simple act of lifting my voice lifted my spirits and thoughts to the One who listens, who hears, and who is with me, always. 

So as long as motherhood feels crazy and wonderful and reveals HOW COMPLETELY OUT OF MY DEPTH I AM, I will be singing away. So for the rest of all time, really. So sorry not sorry. Good thing I’ve been practicing night and day, huh. 

Your coffee should be the size of your infant's head.