Being Spectacular is exhausting
This is a story I was asked to write and will read for my church’s community Christmas event, Carols on the Bluff, in Fairhope, Alabama on Saturday, 14th at 4pm, overlooking Mobile Bay. Everyone is invited. If you’re out of town, hum a few carols to yourself. We’ll miss you.
Due to her competitive nature and constant comparison to other overachievers on Instagram, Velma Leigh hired a wildlife consultant to bring live reindeer to her front lawn for her children to discover on Christmas Eve. “What’s that noise I hear?” she innocently asked as she cupped her hand to her ear.
The children shivered on the porch in matching P.J.’s, watching in disbelief as the reindeer serenely grazed on the lawn. All was calm, all was bright until the neighbor’s two hound dogs jumped the fence and chased the reindeer to the point of exhaustion as the Reindeer Ranger ran around and shouted every angry word he knew.
Velma Leigh learned that being spectacular can be exhausting.
Southern ladies are particularly prone to perfection and often insist that the gift wrap coordinates with the ornaments and that the Christmas cards contain calligraphy. Breakfast casseroles must be gourmet and eaten in front of the fireplace on Lenox Holiday china and who doesn’t love a festive party punchbowl with a floating cherry ice mold? No wonder we’re worn slap-out by January.
But if we take a deep breath and think back over our lifetime of holiday memories, we’ll realize the most precious and dear moments were the times things didn’t go quite right.
Perfectionism is overrated, and stories of chaos and mistakes often become the family’s best memories.
The year we renovated our house and had to relocate the Christmas tree to the bedroom was actually kind of fun. Our two little boys were able to unwrap gifts and bounce on the bed at the same time.
And my husband’s family loves remembering how Liesl walked into the dining room, gave a little cough, then died right there on the floor in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner. Liesl was his grandmother’s dachshund, and the story gets better with each passing year.
Most families have a story about a particular Christmas tree that toppled over and crashed to the floor, and stories of holiday travel plans gone awry or burst water pipes on New Year’s Eve are more common than you think. And pray-tell, who doesn’t know someone who ended up in the emergency room on Christmas Eve with an injury from assembling some type of gadget? There’s always the story of an undercooked turkey or one that was so dry it sucked every last drop of moisture from your mouth.
As we enter the season when we celebrate the birth of the only perfect human, our imperfect lives remind us of our need for help and forgiveness. Yes Virginia, we need a savior.
When your child throws up in Santa’s lap, or the cat perches on the top of the tree, tossing ornaments down like free throws, it will be our memory of living an imperfect life in a real-world that needs the baby in the manger to save us. He won’t come and cook the turkey for us, or polish the silver or make the children behave, but he’ll forgive us for thinking we’re in control. We can’t be spectacular alone—not even Velma Leigh.
I have had my share of disasters! One year the tree lost all it’s greenery and we had to quickly replace it while the kids where at school…I gave up perfection after that!!! Merry, Merry!
Now, there’s a Christmas Crisis I’ve never heard of before! What a good, spectacular mom you were – and still are, I’m sure!