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what a frozen pie crust taught me about the meaning of christmas

hello friends.  happy wednesday!

this morning marks the beginning of my christmas vacation and i am so thrilled to be off work for the next couple of weeks. 

{{insert giant exhale here}}

i do so love being home this time of year – seems like my christmas spirit is directly proportional to the amount of time i spend at home.  and so for the next week, i’ll be finished up my shopping and wrapping.  making cookies with my girl.  spending time with my family.  all the things that make christmas so very special.

as much as i hate to admit it, i have been guilty in the past (in my attempts to make things special of course) of wringing every last blessed drop of joy out of the holidays. my perfectionist nature certainly doesn’t help matters. i specifically recall one incident many years ago. i had recently gone back to work full time and was totally strung out getting ready for christmas. i was at the grocery store to get the stuff to make a pecan pie, and as i stood in front of the frozen pie crusts, i was in tears. weeping because i knew that i didn’t have the time or energy to make pie crust from scratch and trying to convince myself that it would be OK anyway.

to say that was a turning point for me is the understatement of the century.

the thing is, i truly love to bake and craft and decorate during the holidays. and even though i don’t work full-time anymore, i still get strung out from time to time. but then i just remember that poor girl in front of the pie crusts and take a deep breath. and i ask myself the following questions…

Does this {insert pie crust moment here} feel like joy or does it feel like obligation? Does this feel like inspired creativity, or frenzied comparison? Am I doing this because it makes someone I love really happy or am I doing to fulfill some ridiculous, self-imposed standard.

these days, if {insert pie crust moment here} does not feel like joy, or inspiration, or love, then i am letting it go. because what i have learned over the years is that no one cares if the piecrust is homemade. what is special is being together.

that’s where the real joy of christmas lies for me. being together with the ones i love to celebrate the light and the hope that our Savior brought into the world.

sunrise

wishing you peace, love, and store-bought pie crusts. kelly

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Filed Under: holidays, life 5 Comments

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Comments

  1. Carrie bump says

    December 19, 2012 at 9:34 am

    I can SO relate to this one!! Which is why I let the laundry go!! Hahahaha

    Reply
  2. Stacey says

    December 19, 2012 at 11:06 am

    Yes yes yes!! If I could only keep this thought in my head and heart ALL the time.

    Reply
  3. Pam says

    December 20, 2012 at 12:29 pm

    I mean, how could I not just love you to bits! I mean, really. This is one of the best posts ever. With your perfect pitch of hindsight and insight and compassion and humour, just hit the nail bang on the head. How hard we are on ourselves, huh? And how that shifts and changes as time goes by and somehow it all seems to make more sense, who we are, what we’re supposed to be doing. You are a breath of fresh air. Listen, you want lamb/rosemary or gin/rosemary (because it’s BOTANICAL and rosemary is one of the herbs), you come on up. Mint sauce. The whole deal.
    Love,
    Pam

    Reply
  4. Cathy H. says

    December 20, 2012 at 9:52 pm

    First…your image is gorgeous! Amazing sky!! Second…I know exactly what you’re talking about!! It doesn’t have to be the perfect Christmas, just a wonderful Christmas with our families!! I hope yours is extra special! Enjoy you time off!

    Reply

Trackbacks

  1. november 16 says:
    November 16, 2014 at 4:55 pm

    […] me when i tell you that no one can suck the joy right out of christmas like me trying to make things […]

    Reply

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Hi There! I’m Kelly. I am a wife, mom, light seeker, homemaker, and storyteller. From an empty nest to an abundant life, all it took was a little time, a lot of faith, and the courage to see my life differently.

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