What I Want for Christmas...

So the Holiday Season is here. I loved my long Thanksgiving weekend, but am not sure I'm ready for the madness that accompanies the next few weeks. 

I was completely content before this weekend... don't really have any needs or wants at all. But being bombarded by all of the Black Friday ads and watching people out shopping and seeing on facebook all of the "good deals" my friends got - well, it's hard not to get swept up in the frenzy.

We did venture out on Friday - enjoyed dinner out with the boys and got to hear all about their recent trip to Rome. We laughed together and it was one of the best times I've had in a long time!  It runs a close second to my most favorite place on the planet: Barnes & Noble! They left me there and went to research a vehicle purchase that is looming on our horizon. I selected a stack of books and settled in to peruse them, peering up now and then to observe the shoppers coming and going.  What I noticed mainly was the new outfits so many seemed to be wearing - it seems that half the store was decked out in their Black Friday purchases. One teenage girl even had the sticky strip still running down the leg of her new skinny jeans! She paraded around while I battled the dilema of "do I tell her, or do I let someone else tell her?" Just as I decided to get up and tap her on the shoulder, another gal-pal joined her and they turned the corner off into the self-help section in a giggling frenzy. (Teenagers looking for self-help books? Goodness-gracious!) 

I digress.

My point is that I'm trying not to be swept into the consumerism this season. Yes, there are some things I want - (new cup towels, W's new book, and a maid to come every 4 weeks) - but here's the deal. There's nothing wrong with the old cup towels I have now. And W's new book will be in the Library soon. And the maid? Well, if I really wanted the kitchen floor mopped, I'd do it myself.

The Advent Season is upon us, and I'm challenging myself to focus more upon doing for others this Season than for myself.  (http://www.adventconspiracy.org/) . It seems that I'm always suprised when I do something for others - without a doubt, the feeling that comes from it is almost addictive! I'm not kidding about this - there is a deep joy that is better than any cup towel, new book or maid that I could ever pay for.

Case in point: on Thanksgiving morning, Rick and I participated in a project spearheaded by a friend of ours. Sharon cooked a homemade Thanksgiving dinner in her own kitchen for almost 200 people. Volunteers boxed the plates up and delivered to those on the Meals on Wheels lists for the Lake area and Athens. (They received frozen dinners earlier in the week to get them through the holiday weekend, so these were a wonderful gift.) 

Rick and I had about 12 meals on our list to deliver. It was raining. And cold. But the food was hot, and what we encountered along the way warmed us up. This little old couple - first on the list - live way out in the country. The house was obviously the same one they had lived in for years upon years. Rick quickly noticed and began commenting on the little things that the man had done over the years. The tools hanging in his garage told a story of his handiwork. The crepe myrtles, now overgrown and untrimmed, stood stoicly in place on either side of the driveway - obvious to Rick's eyes that the location had been carefully selected a loooong time ago and planted with care. The car parked in the garage, collecting dust, hadn't been driven lately and I found myself wondering if there had been a battle when the kids took away the keys. Or were there any kids? Why were they here alone on Thanksgiving morning and not with their family? There was a story to be told, and I wish we could have taken the time to hear it.

The tiny shrunken woman sat in her housecoat in the recliner, oxygen tubes snaking up her side. The tv blared in front of her, but her full attention was on me. I walked over to her and gently grasped her hand, hoping I wouldn't hurt her paper-thin skin. The grip she returned suprised me. As I looked into her face, I felt everything around me fade away. The blaring tv receeded into the background. Rick had disappeared into the kitchen with the old man and it was just me and Mrs. R.

We held gaze for a few seconds as she thanked me and wished all of God's blessings on me. I felt like in that single moment... I knew her, and she knew me. We were linked briefly, complete strangers, crossing a bridge together, looking down into the valley of years gone by, and then looking up into the distant unknown stretching before us.

I let go before she did, and retreated back towards the door. Duty called, and we had hot meals getting cooler by the minute in the backseat. She again called out God's blessings for us and Rick wrapped up his moments with her husband.

We walked down the hall, let ourselves out the garage door and dodged the raindrops that were beginning to fall. Silence fell  as we sat in the car looking at each other, quietly assessing our emotions. Rick put it in gear and we drove down the drive as those two ancient crepe myrtles watched us slowly fade away. 

I told a friend yesterday that I feel like I saw the face of God in that little old lady's eyes. My friend said "maybe you did."

And the JOY  that I felt from serving that little old couple puts to shame any joy that I could feel over a new outfit, a book on my list, or even a maid. And the things that last in this world aren't things we can buy for our friends or family. It's fun to give gifts, and I'm not knocking that at all. 

I'm just saying that the things that last, that really matter, that make us who we are...

Those are the things I want for Christmas.