We continue the Spirit of Christmas series today with my guest, Tim Gallen. Tim and I connected through an online writer’s group. His wit and humor make his work enjoyable to read. His lighthearted nature and uplifting spirit are qualities I admire. Enjoy Tim’s personal Christmas story!

 

Growing up, Christmas was like a Cold War battle of escalation.

Every year in the Gallen household, Jesus’ birthday became a war zone of ever-more presents, ever-more balls of wrapping paper, ever-more clothing, toys, trinkets, and stocking stuffers.

Between my three siblings and me, the tree would be jam-packed with boxes and parcels and gifts. Most years, the tree could not contain the sheer volume of gifts, with some even spilling into another part of the house.

If there was a hot toy that year — hot toy, gadget, trinket, whatever — without a doubt, come Christmas morning, we found it lying beneath the tree, decorated in colorful, festive paper that would be ripped away a few short hours later.

Honestly, I cannot recall a Christmas when I did not get everything I wanted or asked for.

But a funny thing happens when you get everything you want.

You become restless.

At least, I did and I have. It wasn’t immediately obvious. Like most of life’s meaningful lessons, it was subtle, like a pot slowly warming on a stove. But in the past few years, various bouts of anxiety, depression, and navel-gazing have led me to remember:

We are not our stuff.

It is the great tragedy of our modern world that we spend our lives attempting in vain to find purpose and meaning in our weary lives by accumulating and compiling things. I know it is a bit cliche, but we continue to seek to derive our life’s meaning from the stuff we own.

We insist on fixing our brokenness by surrounding ourselves with trinkets and toys.

This tragic truth is most evident at this time of year. Christmastime, a season of anticipation and great love and joy, has become one of constant stress and anxiety over everything from finding the perfect gift to baking cookies to grabbing the best tree.

But in the end, despite the constant filling in, despite the stress and running around, despite the compliments we receive about our Christmas cookies or decorations or gifts, our souls and spirits often remain empty once we take down the decorations and put away the gifts. We remain restless.

I have found, however, that the key to breaking this fruitless cycle is simply to lean in and embrace the truth that I am broken and imperfect.

“I am imperfect and I am enough.” — Brene Brown

We are not perfect creatures. Then again, we are, I suppose. But not in the way we traditionally think of perfection. Rather, we are perfectly imperfect — broken but beautiful in our humanity. And no toy or trinket will ever change that.

There is a peace that overwhelms us when we embrace our imperfection instead of listening to the lies of the world that only after we purchase this or own that will we be filled and content and happy. A peace only Jesus provides and offers.

In a classically human way, Jesus’ birthday celebration has morphed into the very activity He came to save us from.

After all, he’s the one who calls to “all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to be a Grinch or suck the joy and anticipation and excitement out of the season. Christmas is one of my favorite times of year and, hey — who doesn’t love receiving presents?

I do not believe the possession of material things is inherently evil or wrong. But our lives ought not be defined by the things we own.

Nothing outside of ourselves is required to validate our existence. Nothing beyond ourselves is required to give us meaning.

We are imperfect. And we are enough.

 

Tim Gallen is a writer and oddball who lives in Phoenix. He writes fiction and the occasional funny blog post at TimGallen.com. He and his wife put up their Christmas tree three days before Thanksgiving. Friend him on Facebook or follow him on Twitter.