Each year we ring in the holiday season by making the rounds to 750 stores.

I stack three stories of gifts in front of each child. Within ten minutes we’re up to our eyeballs in wrapping paper. I have five children. That’s five three-story gift stacks and about 1200 yards of wrapping paper. Last year it took us three days to find the cat.

I was scanning for Christmas sales when I ran across an Internet ad: “100 FREE HOURS!” That’s it! That’s what I want for Christmas! Not the Internet service – just the hours. My holiday calendar could make grown men weep. When was it that I lost control? Was it when I said I would help with the costumes for the kids’ Christmas play? They need them WHEN?? (Does anyone know where I can find an all-night myrrh store?)

Isn’t it the season for a Norman Rockwell moment? Even if we can’t have a chestnut or two roasting on an open fire, it seems we should at least be able to find time for some popcorn popping in the microwave. Visions of sugarplums? I don’t think so. There hasn’t been a silent night around our place since the season began.  (Read: Have you misplaced your Christmas spirit?)

Maybe we’re being sucked in to the idea that we need to “super-size” the holidays the same way we’re tempted to upgrade every fast-food lunch. We convince ourselves that to have a socially complete Christmas, we need to super-size our schedules – adding more, spending more, eating more. I need an antacid just thinking about it.

Definitely time to simplify, but how? Let’s start by looking at the big Christmas picture. Jesus Christ didn’t come into the world so that we could enjoy a nice story about a reindeer. He didn’t come so that our kids could put on a cute play.

Jesus was born so that through his sacrificial death, we could be reconciled to a holy God. Emmanuel, “God With Us,” came to pay our sin debt. Christmas is not for making us overworked and overwhelmed, but for celebrating how we have been made overcomers.

The season becomes a real celebration when we learn to rest in the faithful hands of the One who has overcome the world. Guess what we find when we rest in him: Peace! Jesus said in John 16:33, “…in me you may have peace.  In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” The Lord has done the overcoming on our behalf. He’s the one who gives peace. The only thing we truly need to work for is the resting ability.

If your holiday schedule is keeping you up for nights and you’d like a little sleep in heavenly peace, maybe ‘tis the season for saying some “no’s” – for sanity’s sake. As for that Internet ad, if someone could actually give me those extra 100 hours, what would I do with them? Would I cram them to the brim with more activities? The truth is that we have loads of time – 24 hours every day.  Focusing 24/7 on the God who provided Christmas is the way to find a fulfilling holiday season.

I’ve decided to take time to stop and smell the poinsettias – and find the cat.

Are you dealing with stress this season? Read about some techniques that will keep you focused and on budget this holiday and a list to help you avoid chaos this Christmas.  If you are feeling overwhelmed this Christmas don’t suffer in silence, talk to a mentor.  You can use this form to submit your question or concern and you’ll get an email back from your mentor.  If you want to keep talking just hit reply.

My husband hates it when I complain about another bad hair day.

When I finally finished the second round of the hair battle, I realized I’d feathered instead of fluffing and spraying. The fluff and spray look that I’m trying for now is the look that I accidentally got a couple of decades ago when I was trying for a shag. Fluff and spray wasn’t cool back then, so I had to soak my head in the sink. Timing is everything.

Anyway, there I was–a new millennium woman–and I had feathers. I finally managed that Farah Fawcette hair-do. It’s just that it was twenty-five years too late. Again, timing. Farah Fawcette’s hair on my mother’s face–this was scary.

I was in danger of a clinical hair depression. I had to think of something positive. I found it: At least I don’t have to try for teenage boy hair. You want to talk about scary hair? Consider these guys. They have a hair thing going that requires a new bottle of gel, mousse or polyurethane every two days. They shellac the top of the hair and then sculpt the front straight up. I think they have to use a chisel instead of a comb. I imagine some have accidentally snapped off the front trying to get that hedge-look happening. I’m afraid to hug any of these guys. That hair could put an eye out.

Who am I, though, to point a mousse-covered finger at those who grapple with the latest styles? Farah Fawcette feathers, remember? I know that each bizarre “do” will live out its time and then we’ll all make fun of each other in our pictures 10 years or so down the road. It’s just a matter of time.

On the matter of time, my goal is to redeem my time for something valuable–in whatever hairstyle I’m sporting. Too much time spent on clothes, TV, computer games…yes, even hair…can yield a sad time of fruitlessness. Ephesians 5:15-17 says, “See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is.”

We don’t have time for fruitlessness. The world needs us to be salt and light. There’s a lot to do for Christ. Hair is probably not at the top of the list. The good news is that He can use us even with helmet hair. Not even the color matters–but we’ll talk about my chemical dependence in another article.

Are you living a fruitful life? Read about simple ways you can share the spirit-filled life and how you can share your faith through everyday acts of kindness.

Have you noticed that anger seems to be in fashion in some spheres?

Kids at every age often know exactly how to find our anger buttons – and then they jump up and down on them. It’s usually the little things that make us crazy. It’s easiest for me, for example, to lose my cool when we’re running late. For the record, that’s a bi-daily anger test. It seems the morning that the alarm doesn’t go off and the dryer doesn’t get the clothes completely dry, the kids shift into some sort of alternate time reality. It’s like a bad “Twilight Zone” episode.

One of those mornings I was barking out orders left and right when I noticed one of my children just standing in the kitchen staring at the orange juice can. I crabbed, “Why in the world are you just standing and staring when you don’t even have your jeans on???” The answer: “Mom, it says, ‘Concentrate.’”

I hate the way anger turns me into a crab. And it inspires all kinds of selfishness. It’s usually about my imaginary rights being violated – selfishness to the max. That’s what inspired me to come up with the crustacean line of the year: “When you’re crabby, it’s easy to be a little shell-fish.”

There is a righteous anger, but few of us experience that one. Let’s face it, ours is almost always of the selfish variety. And what does anger really produce? The fastest time at the swim meet? One less tardy at school? Maybe, but at what cost? While swimming the fastest time and having the best on-time record at school, we’re spewing meanness and crabbiness. Ephesians 4:31-32 says, “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you.” (NIV)

Anger, bitterness and crabbiness? Get rid of ‘em! We’re instructed to put away anger and the like, but we’re not left wondering what should replace it. According to verse 32, we’re to put on kindness, tenderheartedness and forgiveness, with our Heavenly Father as our example.

Learning what to put away and what to put on can help you keep your cool when you discover that the kids have been playing deep-sea diver in your aquarium – with the cat. Even if you happen to find your six-year-old’s broccoli from last week under the cover of your hot rollers, you can look to the Lord and find the strength to get rid of anger and put on a tender heart. Anger is not the motivational tool it’s cracked up to be. You’ll find greater reward doing it Jesus’ way – showing compassion and forgiveness – even if you didn’t make the broccoli discovery until after you plugged in the rollers.

Do you need some help with keeping your cool? Read about how to live with patience and learn to love others who are difficult to love.

I made a wonderful friend when I was in the eighth grade.

I have to confess that I didn’t have a spec of compassion or understanding.  When she asked how I stayed skinny, I would answer, “It’s easy.  I just don’t eat.”  She would run from the room letting out some sort of primal scream as I sat at the table with a confused look and a Twinkie dangling out of one side of my mouth.

Twenty-something years and twenty pounds later, the primal screams are MINE.  If I named these twenty pounds, I think I’d have to call them “Judy’s Revenge.”  That would make it more personal than naming the pounds after their parents, Ding Dong and Brownie.  The miracle of it all is that Judy and I are still great friends, despite my teenage insensitivity.

While we’re on the subject of teenagers, I’ve made an interesting observation.  Boys and girls seem to stop using vowels at around the age of thirteen.  And I’ve noticed another amazing phenomenon.  Maybe this phenomenon occurs because adults can’t understand the teenage vowel-less language very well.  Whatever the reason, teens seem to develop some sort of body language combined with a form of gymnastics.  It’s really pretty amazing.  The spinning-shoulder/eye-roll combination is one of the most complicated moves in the teenager olympics, yet I still see many master it.

All five of my children will be teenagers at the same time.  Perhaps I should stop this article right here and we should all bow for intense, fervent prayer.  If you’ve finished praying, I’ll continue.  I know just enough about teenagers to be looking forward to these years.  Okay, now you can stop laughing and go back to praying.

Thankfully, I think my children will be more compassionate and understanding than I was when I was a teenager. If not, then at least I have the comfort of knowing that I have more compassion and understanding than I did back then, and maybe that will help me deal with my children tenderheartedly.  I’m going to keep praying 1 Pet 3:8-9 for my family:

“Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous; not returning evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary blessing, knowing that you were called to this, that you may inherit a blessing.”

Teens get lots of examples of selfishness, evil and cold-heartedness from the world.  My goal is to let “a blessing” be the inheritance for my children. I do hope I can be a better testimony of compassion to them than I was to Judy.

You can stop by my house anytime to see if I’m meeting that goal.  Don’t stop if you hear primal screams.

Are you need of some great friendships? Read how you can help an acquaintance become a best friend and how to make time for friends in your life.

• In phase one of the program, the trainees would learn to carry four times their body weight in bags while balancing multiple rolls of wrapping paper, a soft drink and a pretzel. Then, while juggling the bags, paper, drink and pretzel, the trainees would be required to find the car, dig out the keys and open the trunk. All this would have to be done, of course, while trying to hold a toddler who needs to go potty.

• Phase two would include an intensive over-eating regimen. The diet would be made up of approximately 60% fast food and 60% confectioner’s sugar (the extra 20% could be applied directly to the thighs). On the special diet, program participants would be guaranteed to have their stomachs sufficiently stretched out by Thanksgiving, when the real Christmas over-eating season begins.

• Phase three of the program would train for wrist fitness, including helping the trainee get the standard ATM time down to under sixty seconds, check-writing, credit card purchasing and even a remote lesson on the basic cash-counting wrist moves for those two or three people who still use it.

• But then again, the real Christmas training would more likely need to be in the area of spending time wisely, not so much in spending money wisely. OK, maybe both. But the time factor seems to be in just as short a supply around the holidays.

I’ve been thinking lately about just how many Christmases I have left with my kids at home. Daniel: ten more, Allie: eight, Kaley: six, Jordan: five and Andrew: only two more. It’s easy to get caught up in the spending, the eating and the busyness of Christmas and lose sight of the treasured parts. We won’t remember all the activities nearly as much as we’ll remember – and treasure – the time with our families. The “urgency” of Christmas isn’t in keeping the impossible schedule and buying the truckload of gifts. I’ll bet we would all consider it more “urgent” to spend time with family, to share the Savior’s birth with people we love and to make some sweet Christmas memories.

Christmas marks Jesus’ coming to earth to be with us. What a wonderful, celebrative reason to gather. Teaching others how to celebrate the real reason for Christmas and not forsaking our own worship and our family worship is more important than any other special event on the calendar. Mark it down. You’ll find yourself making memories that you can tuck away and treasure, just as Mary did in Luke 2:51 when she “treasured all these things in her heart.”

So plug meaning, joy, and peace into a Christmas that’s centered around the love of Jesus and love for His people. The shepherds assembled at Christ’s coming. The wise men assembled. Even the angels assembled. Let’s assemble our loved ones in the name of the Savior.

Christmas: some assembly required.

Do you have self-control issues at Christmas? Read more about healthy holiday tips and learn ways to eat this season without feeling guilty.

Don’t you hate it when your pantry is full of stuff, but you can’t seem to make it into a meal?

I couldn’t even see a microwaveable casserole coming together, so I ate the handful of chocolate chips for strength and moved from the pantry to the fridge. There were about the same number of possibilities in there. Dozens of containers but none I was willing to actually open. Through the clear-ish one I could make out some fuzzy purple ravioli. I didn’t remember ever having ravioli. That was scary. I poked at it, but I think that just made it angry, so I gently put it back.  Wasn’t there anything in there I could microwave for dinner?

You might have guessed that I support heavy use of the microwave oven. I realized I might have taken it too far the other day when we were getting ready for company and I actually had to DUST the stove. I thought about getting rid of my stove altogether, but a friend told me that I was deranged. (“De-ranged.”  Get it?)  Besides, it’s a great place to hide dirty dishes if company stops by unexpectedly.

The “What’s for dinner?” question remains a toughie for me. Even when my pantry is filled with wonderfully zappable cardboard boxes, I find it difficult to choose. I’m so glad that my Heavenly Father didn’t have to stare into the “pantry” of the world, trying to put together something redeemable. No, I picture Jesus Himself saying, “I’ll take that one,” as he plucked me out to make me into something special.

I’m not special because of anything that I can do, mind you. I’m special because the Lord chose me and because he lives in me. Ephesians 1:4 says, “Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him.” Verse 10 says, “that he might bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.” Gathering together.  Almost sounds like a casserole, doesn’t it? I’m so thankful that our all-powerful Father looked into his grand pantry and started his holy gathering “in Christ.”

That’s reason for celebration. I decided to celebrate by calling 1-800-PIZZA GUY. Still, you’re welcome to drop by for dinner sometime. If you stop by unexpectedly, please don’t look in the oven.

Need some healthy advice for your life? Learn seven simple steps to eat healthier and how you can protect your heart against heart disease.

Something was wrong at school.Very wrong.

People teared up as they walked by. It wasn’t emotion over his bravery. It was some sort of gray fog that was looming over the locker. The stench was causing the paint to peel.

The cleaning process was an adventure–maybe it was more of an excavation. No, excavation isn’t a strong enough word either. It was more like a hostile confrontation.He might have been better prepared for the battle if it were a military school locker.Still, I think we’d all be pretty amazed, if not thoroughly grossed out, at the spoils of war a 9th grader can acquire when he resolves to clean his locker.“So there’s that Government report.”  “Who put Ben-Gay in here?”  “Hey, I remember when these shoes fit!”

Andrew continued the onslaught on his locker until he finally sniffed out the enemy. He found it sandwiched between a couple of stiff, brown socks (Hey–wait a minute–I only buy him white socks). It was one of those frozen pocket sandwiches. Needless to say, it was no longer frozen. It’s safe to say that it was no longer a sandwich either. It was green and purple and slimy–the part that was still there, that is. Half of it was gone–even though he hadn’t ever eaten any of it. It just sort disintegrated into that mysterious place where disgusting things go when they die. The rest of it was still alive, but definitely injured.

Once he peeled away the socks, the stench moved the battle into more of a chemical warfare mode. Even after Andrew hauled off the slime pocket, the stench didn’t seem to understand that its instigator was gone.The gray fog still loomed. So Andrew fought the chemical battle the way most 9th grade guys fight the battle of the stench. He poured half a bottle of cologne in his locker. He ended up with a different battle–something like Mold-zilla meets High Karate Kid.

Isn’t that how we treat our sin sometimes? We ignore it until it just won’t be ignored anymore. And then we try to cover it over by “over-cologning” it. We excuse it as a little boo-boo, an error in judgment, or “just part of my personality.” What we really need to do is recognize that stench for what it is:  sin. Then we need to hose out the locker of our lives and start fresh.

Jesus is the only one who can clean up the stench. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) Yes, He can purify even the stuff we’ve left growing all semester.

Covering over our sin gets us nowhere. Proverbs 28:13 says, “He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy.”

He finds mercy.  In some analogies, he may even find a science project.

Do you need to clean-out some things in your life? Read how confession can be both a relief and necessity and how you can be healed from jealousy and resentment that has never been dealt with.

I always feel pretty good about myself

One morning, deep in “therapy,” I mentally mapped out my day. If I timed everything just perfectly, I could get a nagging writing deadline or two resolved, get the house reasonably picked up (at least scrape off the top layer), do enough laundry so that I wouldn’t have to worry about that naked-kid-thing, and maybe even find something for dinner that a pizza guy wouldn’t have to deliver.

I was deep into my plans when, without warning, a deer popped out of the woods and right onto the hood of my car! Talk about putting a dent in my plans – not to mention my car. My radiator was inside my engine!

But the deer fared even worse. An officer arrived a few minutes later and put the poor thing out of its misery. I blubbered like a real idiot. Talk about embarrassing.

I was glad that I had already taken the kids to school. I thought they would be even more upset than I was. Of course, later when I told them, my oldest son’s first comment was: “Cool! Do we get to eat it?” Kids! I pointed out to him that while I had accidentally done the tenderizing, field dressing the thing there in the road had somehow never occurred to me.

Don’t let it get around, but I did strut around at church the next evening, bragging to all the guys in my most macho way how I had bagged me a deer. I’ve got that macho act down. You just pull up your britches a lot, sniff and wipe your nose with the back of your hand. Then you spit. Okay, I couldn’t really bring myself to do the spitting part. Still, they were all deeply impressed.

But guess what happened with all my ambitious plans? Right. Exactly NOTHING! An hour waiting for a tow truck, more hours at the body shop (though I made the repair man very, very happy), then another few hours chatting with the insurance man. The insurance man was not nearly as happy as the guy at the body shop. As a matter of fact, he mentioned that he hoped the deer didn’t have any sue-crazy next of kin who might come after me with a wrongful death suit. Anyway, before I knew it, the day was gone.

I should never be so full of my own plans that I forget that the Lord might have something completely different in mind. There’s no satisfaction in life when I’m wrapped up in my own things – even when everything is deer-free. “The backslider in heart will be filled with his own ways, but a good man will be satisfied from above.” (Proverbs 14:14) True satisfaction comes from walking with Him every moment.

I want my satisfaction to be in Him wherever I’m walking. Wherever I’m driving, too – if I ever get my car out of the shop.

Are you feeling satifsied with life? Read about how you can learn to follow God’s direction for your life and how to be happy with the life you are living.

I found a five dollar bill in a sneaky secret pocket last week.  Even better, I found a candy bar.  Now that was interesting.  It was scrunched into about a bajillion bits–almost liquefied–but it was still inside the wrapper.

I have to admit there are some encounters that aren’t exactly positive purse experiences. The other day, for example, I was making a return and I had to do an emergency receipt search at the customer service counter.  My purse stuff started piling up.  I pulled out 5 loose Lifesavers, an old Valentine, sunscreen, one mitten, 6 kid meal toys (including a mini-tractor with only one wheel), 3 keys of unknown lock origin, and a dead cricket.  But no receipt.  There were 12 tissues (none I would actually use), last year’s Christmas list, a ticket stub to the Jr. High spring concert, the backs from 4 adhesive name tags, and a partridge in a pear tree (kidding about the partridge).

I scraped up a Denny’s coupon that expired in 1997 and a plastic Easter egg.  The egg rattled, but I was afraid to open it.  Then there were 2 gummy-worms stuck in a hairbrush.  I hate to admit it, but there was also about enough purse fuzz in there to stuff a sofa pillow.  Inside the purse fuzz, something green and squishy caught my eye–and it frightened me.  I gained courage by tossing the dead cricket and drinking the candybar.

Then I got to the heart of my purse.  I found my New Testament. It had all my family pictures tucked inside.  That’s when I realized that everything important in life could be found in my purse. Okay, I didn’t exactly find Jesus in my purse, but his Word was there.  Granted, it smelled like Juicy Fruit, but it was a great reminder that there’s really no place I can go where I won’t find the Lord’s presence.  Not one fuzz-covered place!

Psalm 139:7-10 says, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?  If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.”

There’s no place I can go without him–not the heavens, not the depths, not the far side of the sea.  I could climb all the way inside my purse, and he would still find me there. There’s nothing that he doesn’t know about me.  He knows the contents of my purse and the contents of my heart.  And he still loves me.

That’s reason to celebrate–even though I never found the receipt.  Maybe the cricket ate it.  For the record, I think the green thing used to be a jelly bean.  I guess we’ll never know.  One of the kids ate it.

Friendships are a must for women.

I have a Mustache Pact with my closest friends. If any one of us goes into a coma, the others are bound by our pact to come and wax the mustache of the comatose friend. We women love to share those special moments.

I shared another special moment with friends recently. Several of us were hurrying to a surprise baby shower. We were hurrying because it’s tough to surprise the guest of honor when she gets to the party before the guests.

We had pooled our resources to buy “the stroller to end all strollers.” It was a collapsible stroller that would stroll the baby, carry the baby, swing the baby – maybe even change the baby – I’m not sure. I thought I heard someone say it sliced, diced and julienned. It was stroller-ama!

I told the others to run in while I got Super Stroller. I jerked it into position and started sprinting. Unfortunately, about mid-driveway, Stroller-zilla realized I hadn’t fully locked it into place (emphasis on the aforementioned collapsible feature). It collapsed neatly into storage mode.

I probably don’t need to give you a science lesson on momentum, but let me mention that I had a lot of it working for me. The fact that the Stroller-nator stopped on a dime didn’t mean much to my little sprinting body, which was immediately airborne.

Maybe you don’t know me personally. Granted, you probably wouldn’t want me to play around with sub-atomic particles on a regular basis, but I don’t want you to forever imagine me as a klutz. So maybe it would be better if you could please picture a graceful triple axle over the top of the stroller with sort of a one-point, back-end kind of landing. I finished it off with a lovely flat-on-the-back pose, staring up at the sky for effect. I’d give it a 6.9.

Thankfully, I had my wonderful friends there to rush over and make sure I was okay. Of course, they couldn’t actually ask me if I was alright since those dear friends were laughing so hard they were about to damage some internal organs! One of them couldn’t even stay.  She made a beeline for the house. You know what can happen to laughing women. That’s another thing we love to share: laughter.

This is a little reminder. If it’s been awhile since you’ve made time for friends, take the time and share a laugh with a sister. We need each other. There are certain matters that only women understand. Two of those are “mauve” and “taupe”. Another one of those things only women understand is, of course, other women.

Call up your special bud today. While you have her on the line, you might also want to take care of that coma/mustache thing.

Do you have some special friends to share your life with or are you still looking? Read about what it means to have a safe friend who will stand beside you and how to move from being acquaintances to close friends.