The Squooshy

Somehow, I completely miss the point.

Every…

Stinking…

Year.

In my efforts to experience the season just right, I burn myself out and I miss it entirely. I juggle too many snowballs and I land myself in some December Death Spiral that has me locked inside my head for days or weeks. All the while, my husband waits for his opportunities to ‘have and to hold until death parts us’.

It is a lonely time for some of the Moraleses.

Missing a standard of perfection isn’t what pains me. It’s feeling like I missed all of it—the joy of Christmas—that’s hard. Because there it goes and it’s gone for another entire year. And every December I think this is the year I will get it right. Thiiiis is my year. This time I had my Advent devotional. I had special music. I had a journal. I had determination. Uh. What I had ‘this year’ was more things on my to-do list to manage Christmas-mania than I actually had time to do.

So. Yeah. No. It wasn’t my year.

And I should not be surprised; I have now seen this same episode 35+ times. The seasonal classics get airtime every Christmas, after all. This year may have been the worst it has ever been, and the hardest I have ever tried. Every year, I hope to find Christmas joy and every year, it eludes me. Actually, I am beginning to realize that I am the one actively snuffing it out. I’m fairly certain, in fact, that by the time we get to Christmas Eve each year, that I, personally, have stalked it, killed it, put it on my mantle, and hung festive lights on it to commemorate the attempted fa la la la la.

Rhonda, why are you like this?

This year’s un-jolly journey had its own arc which started with a rather unpleasant lesson in work-boundaries and why I need them. Let us review: boundaries are created by oneself for use by oneself. So, work did not do this to Rhonda. My particular ‘self’ took on work that (I eventually conceded) did not belong in my lane. Though it came from a genuine desire to be a helpful teammate, those efforts quickly “exceeded the realistic limits” of my available time and energy and spilled over into every aspect of my life. I was all over the place—scattered and overwhelmed. AND, I regret to inform you that that said efforts were also, as I eventually learned, more likely driven by my need for people to like me*.

*Clearly a lot of unpacking was done here; so don’t forget to thank your local mental health professionals. Actually, credit goes to my spouse for totally #CallingIt first and #SeeingMe before said professional helped me unpack it.

But hey. It was a new role and I wanted to give it my all. And, ‘in it to win it,’ though I was…..I still don’t see no prize. Those missing boundaries led to an epic destruction of work-life balance and a Rhonda that let go of almost everything that made me whole or healthy or made me…’me’.

I neglected:

• Music Time
• Writing
• Family time
• Devotional time
• Exercise
• Manicures (!)
• Soul Care

I missed:

• a doctor’s appointment
• a haircut
• countless home-cooked meals
• hours of sleep
• nights of cuddle time with my boos

Whatintheworld? Was a bear chasing you Rhonda? Did someone trigger your #FightOrFlight response?

I’m not really sure what I gained through all of this. I do know that I felt panicked most days and I did not show up to work or even life as my best Rhonda. Clearly, I was not making conscious and well-reasoned decisions. I mean. How could I have? I was barely showing up as pseudo-heroin-addict Rhonda (figuratively, of course). She was there—all paranoid and strung out looking for some hits of approval. 🤣 The less I took care of myself, the emptier my cup became and the lower my capacity was for handling stress. This is what I later unpacked in counseling: I let my nervous system get offline (#Bear) and all of my other actions just started coming from survival mode. Oy.

Then Christmas…

Soooo the Rhonda that I invited to this year’s “Christmas party” was fairly busted up. I learned the hard way that I have a responsibility to manage my boundaries so that I can show up to life as a whole person. My poor little empty cup of cheer 🫙 just had no chance of filling anyone else’s. All it could do was hold itself out there begging for drops of Yuletide from other people as they passed by.

Many Holiday things—Christmas traditions we do every year without fail—just did not happen this year. And those that did happen…happened in a blur. Shopping. Wrapping presents. Being with friends. Christmas Eve Church service. Stopping to feel feelings. I literally figuratively slid into Christmas this year, barely held together by tape and tinsel. It’s a miracle I even recognized Emmanuel when he showed up in the manger.

And yet, there he was…

It was Monday night December 23rd. I had rehearsal that night at our little church for the music we would be helping out with at the Christmas Eve service the next night—mom on vocals and the boy on bass guitar. The boy and I were going over the song list and making sure we were familiar etc. and came upon a new song.

I was frazzled and not at all in the mindset of singing Christmas Songs and I was also frantically wrapping gifts in the hour I had at home between work and rehearsal. It was just me, a pile of unwrapped gifts, some tape (which kept growing legs and hiding from me), a headache, a weary and distracted brain, my boy and his electric bass, and this song:

O come, all you unfaithful. Come, weak and unstable. Come, know you are not alone.
O come, barren and waiting ones. Weary of praying, come. See what your God has done.

Christ is born, Christ is born, Christ is born for you

O come, bitter and broken. Come, with fears unspoken. Come, taste of His perfect love.
O come, guilty and hiding ones. There is no need to run. See what your God has done.

Christ is born, Christ is born, Christ is born for you

He’s the Lamb who was given Slain for our pardon
His promise is peace For those who believe

So come, though you have nothing. Come, He is the offering. Come, see what your God has done

“Come, though you have nothing. Come. He is the offering. Come, See What your God has done.”

When we got to this part of the song, I just stood there in my room, grandma’s present half-wrapped, tape hiding (again), and I cried— overwhelmed by the beauty of grace. All at once, I felt shame at how colossally I had missed the point of Christmas. Again. And joy to see what God had done. I too felt like I had nothing—I was empty and had missed the point. And I am probably going to miss the point a hundred more times (bless my heart). But oh that I can still be invited to see. I did not need anything. I never did—He is the offering. Christ is born for me. Emmanuel!