My daughter said to me yesterday, “I know this sounds crazy, but opening all the presents and spending money makes me feel fat.” Christmas has always been something of a binge at our house. It’s no different than at just about any other American home. But I get why it makes her feel fat. When it’s all done, I’m ready to start living like a monk.
This December I found a little lump in the pit of my stomach and with every shopping trip it grew. All the buying and splurging made me uneasy. I began saying a prayer every time I entered the stores with the throngs of shoppers: “Next year, may my family be the kind of family that celebrates Christmas in a Christlike way.”
I worry I’m being a killjoy, but honestly, spending money on toy after toy and luxury after luxury seems out of sync with celebrating the one who said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” and told his listeners more than once to sell their possessions and give the money to the poor.
I read about a couple of families who celebrated Christmas by buying or making presents for Jesus. The presents they opened were confirmation of a new well they’d purchased for an African village or sponsoring a child through World Vision, a poem someone had written for him and so on. Their celebrations centered on a candlelight service, reading the Christmas story, and baking for their neighbors.
Am I the only one who reads something like that and drinks it in like a sweet breath of fresh air?
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with exchanging a few presents. But if it feels like a binge, even to a 12-year old, there’s something off. I’m guessing it will take a year or two before my kids could possibly see giving as a better celebration than getting. And for it to really click, they need to see it in action in the adults around them.
Last year I had a theme for my life: God’s love. And I have to say it gave me a lot of comfort in some trying times. This year, I’d like to have another theme: It is more blessed to give than to receive.

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