Confessions of a terrible gift-giver

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It's the season of giving--spirits are high and people enjoy splurging on loved ones.

My spirits are high, too, but the thought of buying gifts for people makes me squeamish. Seriously. My palms start to sweat and that little constant coil in my gut starts winding a little tighter and I'm just not quite feeling well.

It's not that I don't like giving gifts, because I do. I love showing people that I love them. I'm just not the world's best gift-giver. There are two kinds of gift-givers in the world: those who are naturals and those of us who have to work at it. I'm clearly the latter. Once in a while I feel like I've hit the jackpot and found the perfect item, but most of the time, I feel like I'm playing it safe, selling out for a gift card, which is unoriginal but a sure win, instead of finding something unique and thoughtful. Unique gifts can sometimes backfire, so I just don't take the chance.

And I feel like it takes me forever to think of the perfect gift, which is hard for this productivity-addict; to me, those hours spent thinking and searching for the perfect gift could be better spent doing a million other things--again, not because I don't care about other people, but because gift-giving is so dang hard for me.

I also come from a brood of highly practical people. In fact, Phil says I'm the third practical person he knows, behind my mom and dad. So, I grew up in a family where we made lists for each other for Christmas. And we'd give and get what was on our list because that's what we said we wanted and that made us happy. No wasted gifts. No wasted time returning gifts we really didn't want. No re-gifting gifts we hated but couldn't return. But there were rarely any surprises. And there's a part of me that loves surprises--both giving and getting. It just takes so. much. work. So I'm working on it.

Last excuse explanation: it's really hard to hit the jackpot with a gift for someone you don't see or talk to every day, like my family. I see them regularly, but I miss those moments when my mom sees something on TV or in a magazine and tells me she really likes it and I tuck it away for Christmastime. I'm only there for the quick weekend, and it's hard to gather the essence of a person in a weekend. Maybe I need to get to know my family better. That's not true, though. I know them really well. I just don't know what to buy for them. It's a blind spot.

So, there you have it. I'm a terrible gift-giver. Not in the I'm-going-to-knit-you-an-ugly-sweater-for-Christmas way, but in the I'm-going-to-play-it-safe-and-buy-you-a-gift-card way. If you're on the receiving end of my gifts this year, know that I'm trying, but that I'd also appreciate a list of things you really, really want. Because at the end of the day, I just want you to be happy and to know that you're loved.

Christmas and viruses and New Year's--oh my!

You read that right--viruses. Plural. As in today was the first day in three weeks that I have not had to take medicine for something. First it was mastitis, then pink eye, then a GI bug the day after Christmas that had the entire Johnson clan down for the count, and then laryngitis the day after that.

Thankfully, I'm on the mend except for a lingering cough and a very scratchy sultry sounding voice. Sigh. 

Apart from the virus attack, our Christmas was fantastic, spent with both sides of the family. Lots of laughter, good food, traveling, and general good cheer, as it should be. Best of all, Phil was off for five days straight. I'm considering a petition for our country to give both parents paid leave at the same time when a child is born. So. much. easier. And Moo does love his daddy!

Speaking of Moo, he has some new tricks now that he's 6 weeks old and all:

• smiling
• cooing
• sucking his thumb
• making a motorboat sound (I'm pretty sure this is on accident, but it's still pretty cute)

See him all grown up in his Christmas outfit? This is his "Yes ma'am?" face. As in, I just called his name and he said, "Yes ma'am?" That's what I'd like to think, at least.

And my most recent favorite picture of him:

Don't you just love those dimples?

Since Daddy is on call, that little handsome and I will be ringing in the new year together--hopefully by sleeping peacefully through it. :) New Year's resolution(s) to come...

Once Upon a Christmas Card

For those who are checking out this blog as a result of getting our Christmas card, thanks for reading, and I'm sorry. What, you say? Sorry for what? Maybe you didn't notice, but our Christmas card was actually more like a life update card with nothing on it about Christmas. Not even a Bible verse reference. Did you know you were friends with such self-absorbed heathens?

In our defense, we had the great idea to send a postcard this year, but found that with a limited word count came limited information. Okay, so we probably shouldn't have taken the Christ out of our Christmas card, but the idea was that you'd go to my blog and read this Christmas post that would make up for the lack of Christmas in our actual card. So, here are the elusive Christmas reflections you've been waiting for:

I've been thinking a lot about these two verses lately (italics mine):

"The word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness..." 

(Luke 3:2)

AND

"There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit" 

(Isaiah 11:1) 

In my over-familiarity with these verses, I've completely missed the significance of the locations where God shows up. The "wilderness" and the "stump" have been overshadowed by more hopeful lines like, the "word of God" and the "shoot coming forth." I prefer the hopeful, happy parts of those verses rather than the deadness of the wilderness and the stump. Do you ever do this? Skip the parts of the Bible that sound negative?

Stumps and wildernesses are desolate, lifeless places. They're so lifeless that I wouldn't even dare to hope for life there. But God dares. Oh, He dares. Out of the stump of Jesse--the dead, useless stump of Jesse's line--comes the unexpected shoot of Jesus, growing so strongly that it bears fruit. In the wilderness, a place dry and sucked of life, comes the Word of God. And while we were dead in our sins, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8), offering eternal life.

It's not just a nice Bible-thought either. I've seen it played out in friends' lives recently. Seen inexplicable healing in circumstances that seem irreparably broken. Heard stories of hope in places that are saturated with despair.  Witnessed life in the midst of deep, deep darkness. And I'm learning that these two truths exist simultaneously: Life is hard, dark, often hopeless, and disappointing AND God is good, sovereign, perfect, wise, and gracious. He is in the business of giving us the "treasures of darkness" (Isaiah 45:3), the greatest of which was the treasure found in a stable on a dark, unsuspecting night when angels lit up the sky for shepherds and Jesus entered the world wrapped in flesh.

This Christmas, I'm thankful for a God who dares to bring hope and life to given-up-on places and people. And hopefully, you haven't given up on me, even though our Christmas card was, admittedly, a bit un-Christmasy this year.

December begins

I've always loved the first day of a month. It's like a mini New Year that gives me that fresh start, extra-air-in-my-lungs feeling that makes even a Wednesday have the freedom of a weekend. And today isn't just the first day of any month; it's the first day of my favorite month, December.

Mostly, I like December for Christmas: 

for the remembering that comes with Advent, 

for family, 

for seasonal music,

for high spirits, 

for lights on trees, 

for a chill in the air, 

for laughter and food and parties, 

for time off work, 

for anticipation of togetherness

(both in this world and the one to come).

Anticipation. That's the key, really. The key to me liking December so much, yes, but also the key to living joyfully in this life. It's not a rejection or dismissal of the gifts of this world but a holy dissatisfaction with them that sets me on tiptoe, looking for more, looking for Jesus--even in the midst of the wilderness, the valleys, and the uneven ground of this life. We were made for fresh starts, clean slates, and wrongs righted; we were made for heaven and for Him. 

Isaiah 40: 1-5

1 Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.

2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the LORD's hand double for all her sins.

3 A voice cries: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

4 Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.

5 And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken."

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!

From your friendly neighborhood aviator police pumpkin, known to the locals as simply "Stache" (Phil's and my tribute to my stache-sporting dad), "Jack" (evidence of my sister-in-law's mad carving skills) and "GT" (my brother wasn't quite adept enough to carve the Georgia Tech yellow jacket, Buzz). 

And while no kids came knocking on our door for candy this year, 

I can't say I'm all that disappointed.

I'm pretty sure our dwindling bowl of Butterfingers and Reeses will be put to good use.

Meet Perry the Pumpkin

He's the one on the far right with his mouth open. Isn't he cute?

My Christmas traditions

Phil and I just returned from spending a week with my family in Chattanooga, and it was delightful in every way! As I reflect, it seems like I am on the brink of some major life transitions, so I'm (a bit nostalgically) remembering and enjoying the Christmas traditions that I grew up with. Here are a few of them:

1. Every Christmas Eve, my mom sings a solo of "O Holy Night" (consequently my favorite Christmas carol), and, as everyone at church says, "It's not Christmas until Stephanie sings O Holy Night!" With her vocal performance background and soprano voice, she literally sounds like an angel. In fact, I love her singing so much that I have my brothers pocket call me from church on the years when we can't be there so that I can still hear her sing.

2. Every Christmas Eve, after reading the Christmas story from the Bible, my dad reads "Twas the Night Before Christmas" and all the younger kids in the family act it out as it is read. Always a humorous rendition!

3. We have breakfast casserole once a year--on Christmas morning. Often, things are more precious because they are rare. Christmas casserole is one of those things. Also a rarity, but oh-so-good: my mom's homemade wassail.

4. We take turns opening presents instead of opening them all at once. In fact, this year my youngest brother started a new tradition that I hope we keep: from youngest to oldest, we all take turns being "Santa" and choosing a gift for someone else under the tree. It may have taken us over two hours to open gifts, but we were able to see everyone's reactions and gifts, and what else were we going to do?

5. We have a feast on Christmas night--complete with sparkling grape juice and a birthday cake for Jesus.

6. We light the advent candles on the advent wreath throughout the month of December, concluding on Christmas day. It's always a wonderful devotional time as a family and a tangible reminder of the birth, death, resurrection, and coming again of our sweet Savior, Jesus.

These are traditions that I treasure each year and look forward to, no matter my age. And isn't that an intrinsic gift that tradition offers, that by definition tradition rarely changes? In a world that's full of change, it's nice to have a few constants. It's funny how a song, a meal, a wreath of candles, or the way we open presents (such seemingly small and inconsequential things) actually create depth and anticipation in us that is more significant than we realize.

The Christmas Card Rebellion of 2008

Since holiday decorations have been up for weeks and carols have been on the radio all month, I thought I'd go ahead and make a pre-Thanksgiving Christmas announcement (and no, we're NOT pregnant): we will not be sending out a Christmas card this year...at least not at Christmas. For those who are disappointed or confused, here's our reasoning:

1. Nothing monumental has happened in our lives in the last year. We live in the same house, have the same jobs, and have nothing new to share at this point concerning our futures.

2. Let's be honest: Christmas card creating, writing, addressing, stamping, and licking is just plain stressful. Especially when you have to work right up until Christmas.

3. Since there is a bombardment of Christmas cards in December, it will be more fun (and significantly increase the odds of people actually reading our letter) if we send one later in the year...say, in March when we find out where we'll be living for the next 4 years.

4. There's no rule that says you have to...so, we're not this year.

April Fool's Day past and present

I wrote detention slips for my entire 3rd period today, citing them for such appalling behaviors as "inappropriate language," "disruptive behavior in class," "excessive talking," and "skipping class." The best part was having them say, "Thanks for the d-hall slip, Mrs. Johnson!" The act was so convincing that I even had a call this afternoon from a hoodwinked mom, and had to tell her how wonderful her son was and to have a happy April Fool's Day.

My family doesn't typically prank each other, but growing up, we always knew to expect something on April Fool's Day. My mom consistently put a square of wax paper in our turkey sandwiches (and we consistently forgot about it until we took the first bite), and my brother once dyed the milk green. I'm sure we had our fair share of saran wrapped toilet seats too. But it's been a while since I fooled anyone on April Fool's Day, and I realized that life's a lot more fun when you mess with people once in a while.

The Muppet Christmas Carol

If you haven't been exposed to the muppet movies yet, you would be a fool not to go out and rent one tonight. One of our favorites is the Muppet Christmas Carol, narrated by Gonzo himself, along with Rizzo the rat. It had been several years since Phil and I had last seen it, so we had some friends over, ate chili, and then settled into an hour and a half of holiday entertainment. The songs left something to be desired, but there's something utterly hilarious about watching a movie that stars puppets. And not just any puppets at that--muppets! Needless to say, it was certainly an enjoyable way to ring in the season. Other Christmas movies on my list to see: Charlie Brown Christmas, It's A Wonderful Life, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and maybe a new one: White Christmas. It may be 70 degrees outside, but it's Christmastime for me!

The 55th Annual Family Thanksgiving

In my family, being present for Thanksgiving dinner is of equal importance to breathing or paying your bills. You could choose not to, but the results would be dreadful. So, nearly 40 of us gather together each year at my grandparents' house in Atlanta--great aunts, 1st cousins, 2nd cousins, 1st cousins-once-removed (whatever that means). For many of us, this is the only time we see each other all year, and in spite of that (or maybe because of that), we truly enjoy time together. I also think there's a part of us that knows that it won't always be like this.

Because we only see each other once a year, it's always interesting to see the changes in people. This year, for example, I had a cousin who was pregnant, another cousin whose 8th grade voice changed to a man's, another cousin who got his driver's license, and a great aunt and uncle who now use walkers.

Because there are many in our family who are getting older, we always find ourselves thankful for one more Thanksgiving together, one more meal shared, one more conversation, one more round of laughter, one more game of football, and one more common memory. It has now been 55 years since our family Thanksgiving tradition began, and I find myself grateful for those who started it and those who continue it.