It was Hobby Lobby. At rush hour. A week before Christmas.

I stood on one side of a center island, staring at bolts of upholstery fabric marked at 50% off. Did I go to Hobby Lobby for upholstery fabric? Of course not! But there I was, suddenly remembering that I intended to re-upholster a piece of furniture in my spare bedroom – and it literally couldn’t wait.

The colors and patterns of the bolts were swimming before me. The sale was too good to walk away from (or so I told myself). The truth was, I was stalling on the real stress in my life – that Christmas list in my hand, filled with the names of store and loved ones unaccounted for under the tree.

And then I heard it… a long, drawn-out sigh. I could just make out her features and noticed a middle-aged woman almost staring back at me as she looked at the endless yards of fabric hanging on her side of the display.

It was an instant connection. Without holding back or even asking what she was looking for, I suddenly began to let loose a flood of emotions through the display. “This is crazy. I spend 8 hours every day, getting paid to be creative. And the minute I walk out of work, I come to Hobby Lobby and think I’ll have extra creative brain space to spend on my home – with a mile long Christmas to-do list? I can’t do this.” 

The woman chuckled and agreed, “Yes, It’s all so overwhelming. It’s Christmas…” She rounded the bend to approach my side of the display. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to continue the conversation or look to see if I had better fabric than she did. It didn’t matter. The folly of my frustration in that moment was revealed.

This was not what the “joy-filled expectation” was all about, and we both knew it. We wished each other “good luck” and walked away. I made my way right out the front door, crumpling up the Christmas list. If it had been a Hallmark movie, the tune to Amy Grant’s song would have been playing over the loudspeaker as I left.

The drive home was made in silence. I had fallen for the biggest trap of the consumer year: the Christmas rush, fooling myself that I was somehow falling short of Christmas if I didn’t get it all done.

A few days later, I spoke with my mom who was on day 5 of the flu, still recovering in bed from days of exhaustion and fever. Three batches of homemade cookie dough were sitting, unattended in her fridge. Presents were purchased, but none where near wrapped. Christmas dinner couldn’t be planned without creating another wave of nausea. She mourned the loss of Christmas as she knew it, falling short of the greatest day of the year.

Friends, family, co-workers – you name it! Everyone I meet is being dragged down into the idea that they are falling short of Christmas thanks to their already full lives and the never-ending to-do list.

I’m sure you have your own “falling short of Christmas” story to add. Perhaps you’re mourning the loss of a loved one? Trying to make ends meet financially? Preoccupied with your education, job, pregnancy… wherever and whatever life is dishing you at this time?

Whatever you do, dear sisters – do NOT fool yourself! You are not falling short of Christmas. Dig back into the heart of Advent and learn about the stillness of that quiet night in Bethlehem and the peaceful surrender of Mary’s heart while on top of a donkey. These are the details we should be focused on – not the amount of tinsel on our tree or the delay at Amazon Prime this week.

If you are feeling overwhelmed in these final days before the birth of Our Lord and silence seems impossible, here are four things we can do to rescue ourselves from the pre-Christmas rush:

• Say No: That’s right! Don’t be afraid to say no to yourself or someone else. It is not our job to please others or live up to the expectations we create for ourselves. And we often need someone to give us “permission” to say no. Well, look no further! Consider this your permission to say no.
• Say Yes with Mary to God’s plan for you at this point in your life. Embrace the cross, the suffering, the sickness, and the loneliness. Don’t let them get in the way with your journey toward the crib. As soon as we give in to them, we cripple ourselves and make the journey longer and harder. Look at your present sufferings as the bumps of Mary’s journey on top of that donkey while 9 months pregnant. That journey was not the end – it was the means to the relief.
• Take time to listen – even if it’s five minutes locked in your room while the kids play unsupervised (they will survive). Spend your work break in prayer or meditation instead of scrolling through your phone. Any minute you spend directing your thoughts toward the Star in the East will be far more valuable than any Christmas present you could buy for yourself. Advent can actually be our escape from a consumer holiday.
• Let go of the expectations – the due dates for the cards, the list of cookies to be made, and the perfect gift for your mother-in-law. Remember that Christmas is a season and can be enjoyed throughout the following weeks.

Let’s fall short of the consumer Christmas this year and embrace our own story in the here and the now.