Sometimes I need reminders. Sometimes I need permission. On the doorstep of a new year, it seems like a good time for both. At least for me.

Are you like me and one of those people who thrives on praise? (Yes, I know, the praise of men is folly.) Or, like some of the people in my house, could you care less about praise? One thing I've discovered is that it's as difficult for them to understand me as it is for me to understand them. Okay, now I've got my reminder out of the way: not everyone in the whole world has to have praise as often as possible as I do.

Now, for the permission. It's okay to enjoy kind words from others. (Enjoy? Yes. Depend on? No.) 

Since our older cat, Magellan, passed, our younger cat, Maisie, has been even more affectionate. (Imagine wearing an incredibly soft, black fur coat inside out, against your skin.) She ADORES being petted, any time, any place, any where. 

If cats are a part of your life (and maybe dogs, but I'm not real sure about them), you may have noticed they don't all like to be petted the same. Kind of like folks: we don't all like to be praised the same way.

ON THE HEAD: Stroke my smart brain, or do it in public and I'm all yours.

ON THE BACK: Tell me how strong I am, and maybe do it in front of a few folks.

ON THE BELLY: Acknowledge/encourage me in my most vulnerable spot, and please, please do it privately.

Do any of those should familiar? What works best for you? I may not be able to offer up any personal praise, but maybe this will put a little smile on your face.
​

 This year for our Christmas date with Annalyn, we went to see a stage version of"'Charlie Brown Christmas". It was a terrific! The audience was packed. From toddlers to senior citizens, everyone loved it. For 55 minutes, no matter our actual ages, we were all kids.

"Charlie Brown Christmas" and the Peanuts gang got me to thinking about how we approach Christmas. 'Course, the next thing you know, I'm wondering what kind of "nut" I am when it comes to the holidays. Naturally, I thought I'd share. What kind of "nut" do you think you are?

Are you or do you know a "Lucy"? Wow, Lucy is attitude in hyper-drive, isn't she? And when it comes to Christmas, it's "Katie, bar the door!" 

In her usual bossy and opinionated way, Lucy is ready to take over all the Christmas preparations. She has specific ideas of what's appropriate for everything from music to decorations. And of course, she's always right.

Alas, Lucy doesn't seem to consider the "reason for the season" or how anyone else thinks or feels about Christmas. She skips right over event planner and lands square in the steam roller category.

Maybe you're a Charlie Brown. That's me. Always trying to do the right thing and not quite sure why things just don't seem to turn out the way we planned. We do our best and are willing to take on extra responsibilities. Even if we have an internal moral compass, we don't typically try to inflect our ideas on others, or at least try to as  painlessly as possible. 

And then there's Linus. Quiet, loyal, self-assured. At first, Linus may seem immature or lacking in confidence, maybe a little backwards. But Linus definitely warrants a second look.

Linus sticks with Charlie Brown, through bad times and worse. He never complains about Charlie's laments. Instead, Linus is patient and interjects encouragement wherever he can. Despite the criticism of others about his blanket, Linus seems to understand that all of us are needy in one way or another, and accepts our human frailty. When given the chance, Linus is glad to confidently step up and remind each of us what the real meaning of Christmas is.

What works for me is to take a lesson from Charlie Brown and his friends about Christmas. What works is another gentle reminder that Christmas was never intended to be about the trappings Lucy and us can so easily get caught up in. And while our hearts may seem to be in the right place, like Charlie Brown, God didn't give us Christmas to stress or frustrate or defeat us. 

This is Gracie. This is Gracie on a normal day, lots of energy and excitement about being alive. She is a joy, and perhaps our family's only extrovert.

But have you ever been around a toddler on steroids? WOW! It was nearly three hours past bedtime and guess strolled into the living room, wide awake?

When Mary took Gracie to the doctor for a nasty case of the crud, he prescribed an antibiotic and breathing treatments, aka steroids. 

​Saturday morning Baby Sister got up looking and acting pretty rough. No prob; we'll go ahead and do the morning breathing treatment. Ten minutes of the good stuff and uninterrupted Mickey Mouse work wonders. Girl was feeling no pain and wound for sound. I think she ran a rut in the hallway carpet!

And then she crashed.

Hmmm? Sounds familiar.  It was the last day of school before Christmas break. I was making those lists and checking them twice before I even got out of bed. I was focused on getting to school early so I could pack up for break. That meant no quiet time to start my day.

I intentionally got up early the next morning to make sure I had the most meaningful moments of my day. Good grief, I can't even tell you where the time went before a toddler and her older sister came traipsing in. So much for quiet time, again.

In the busyness of the day I continued child-centered and task-oriented. Two days without quiet time and still going strong. At least until nap time. And then I crashed.

That's how it seems to go during the holiday season for me. It's just not wise for me to skip my oatmeal or my quiet time. (Ok, confession time: that's pretty much how it goes for me year round.) What about you?

My cat, Maisie, and I have a routine this time of year. I turn off all but the holiday lighting, turn on soft holiday music, and light a scented candle. Then Maisie and I kick back in the La-Z-Boy with our blankie and just breathe. (Well, I just breathe. She purrs, rather loudly, and that's okay, too.)

Wherever you are in the holiday celebrations, I hope you take a little special respite. In case you're like our turbo toddler and me, and crash, I pray it's into the arms of someone who loves you dearly.

Dear Reader, I really love the Christmas season! Aside from celebrating our Savior's birth, it gives me great pleasure to experience the symphony of the senses. Please join me in a few sensory delights.

Daddy's ambrosia truly seemed to be the "food of the gods". I can still see him sitting at the dining room table, orange juice running down his arms as he mixed the fruity concoction with his hands. Unfortunately, a picture of Daddy's ambrosia was not to be had. That's okay, because pecan pie is a very close second runner up in my favorite taste of the season.  Pecans may be good for you in moderation, but you wrap them up in all that sugar, corn syrup, and eggs, and it is nothing but guilty pleasure.  

So the pie isn't perfect? Cut it into wedges. Stay in control, and never panic.           
Martha Stewart

We just never know. We go through our lives outwardly struggling with a broken dryer, or root canal, or a snafu at the bank. In our world, our problems seem enormous. 

But behind the eyes of someone near us may be challenges we cannot even imagine.

In the last couple of months, two very dear friends have shared about living in very abusive situations for years. I had no idea what was behind the eyes. How could I have missed it? 

These faith-filled, loving, generous women are obviously much stronger than I knew, and they knew a secret.  Each of them shared the same one: it's a choice. Life and how we live it is a choice.

Smiling, hugging, giving, masked the tirades and trials and tantrums they endured from ones they had loved and trusted most, all the while choosing joy. My friends talked about deliberately choosing joy instead of lingering over the pain.

My friends are teaching and reminding me of powerful life lessons. Mama used to say that we never know what goes on behind closed doors. For that very reason, can we try to live lives of compassion and empathy with everyone in our world? 

They also reminded me that problems are a matter of perspective: there will always be someone out there who would give anything to have our lives instead of their own.

Most importantly, these gentle women speak in words and actions that we can choose the bad and bitter, or we can Choose Joy.

You may recall I was ecstatic last week, to say the very least, when Mary gave me a copy of her new book, Choose Joy. It gave me nearly as much joy to give my copy to one of my friends the very next day. The other will be receiving a copy in the mail shortly after its released on January 5.

What works for me is to think about my friends's challenges and choices. What works for me is to know women, seemingly like me, are deliberately making a choice about how they live their lives and are being successful at it.

Dear Reader, I wish I could look behind your eyes and listen to your story. I pray that whatever challenges you may be facing today will fade in the light of the Savior of the world, and that you will find joy in Him.

​This week I'll be linking this post to Giving Up on Perfect and Coffee for Your Heart.

According to Bushy Bones, you complained for years about how much you needed me. Oh yeah, you had time to shop for and buy that ridiculous angel hat for Bushy Bones, but oh no, not for me. Have you looked closely at her lately? Really? The way she leans and sways, you'd think she'd been on a two day drunk Okay, enough about her.

Being fiscally frugal, or as I like to say . . . CHEAP!, my gorgeous self finally intersected with your tight wallet at an after Christmas sale four years ago. Yeah, we were both ecstatic!

. . . for a minute. The next year you were so proud of me. You couldn't wait to show me off. I was beautiful and you loved me  . . . for a minute.

After the holidays, you carefully folded and put me away. In your typically anal fashion, you put me safely away somewhere in the "Christmas (storage) room". Little did I know I had already turned into the ugly stepsister to Bushy Bones with her tippling topper.

I know you've heard it, especially this time of year. It's more blessed to give than to receive. Yeah, yeah, enough already. But I'm here to tell you: IT WORKS!

​The contemporary teacher that resonates with me the most is Joyce Meyer. Joyce frequently says the more we need, the more we need to give.  I heard her say it so much that I finally began doing it. AND IT WORKS!

Have you ever felt like the more you try to do right, the more that seems to go wrong? Who hasn't been there!

As Tom and I attacked our new retirement plan with fervor, all kinds of crazy started happening with our finances. Extra insurance payments were deducted from our account. The bank canceled credit card payments. Tom was diagnosed with a herniated disc, possibly needing surgery. On and on. A crisis was on the horizon. Good grief! 

Coming up for air after yelling at the bedroom ceiling, "Don't they know about Christmas and taxes!", I finally remembered.  I remembered the more we need, the more we need to give.

So, I started cleaning out my closet and looking for anything useful to give away.  Tom chipped in a few things, too. He was beginning to get it. He doesn't fuss near as much as he used to when I donate almost new garments. Instead of trying to explain the Lord said to donate the good stuff, too, now I just have to give him the look.

Usually I take the precious bundle to the drop off bin. Other times, Tom and I stop by on the way somewhere else. This time it worked out for Tom to take it by himself, and I'm so glad it did!

A couple of days later, Tom came in from checking the mail waving an envelope and grinning. "You know that load we donated last weekend? It really does work!" he said.

Tom was waving a totally unexpected refund from the doctor's office.  Over the next several days all of the money issues were resolved. Some were even to our advantage.

I think Tom making the delivery helped him make the connection between faith, obedience and blessing. Now he seems just as convinced as I am that obedience can literally pay off. 

I'm learning that maybe when Jesus said, "Whoever has been given much will be responsible for much. Much more will be expected from the one who has been given more,” (Luke 12:48) He wasn't talking about anything material. 

For me, it means we need to use every ounce of faith and trust we've been given. And every time we do, our faith and trust will increase. The lesson isn't about donating clothes and getting refund checks. It's about believing God will take care of us, and obeying His promptings.

Dear Reader, my prayer for you during this season of giving is that your faith will grow by leaps and bounds. I pray giving in faith will bless your socks off! 
​

Mama and Daddy lived disappointed lives. Not bad lives, just disappointed. 

How do we stay happy when the sad or bad or mad happens?

Guess what? I had to learn the hard way that we have a choice.  We can choose disappointment or we can Choose Joy.

​Remember that lousy attitude I blogged about recently? Not only was I cranky, I was also incredibly melancholy. I missed Mama; I missed Daddy. Christmases past. Estranged family and friends. My hurting knee and my hurting heart had me limping big time.  

And those holiday tunes that I love to sing along with every chance I get were only making it worse. Seriously? Squalling and bawling are not advisable when driving. Please trust me on this one. CRAZY!!

But God is so good! Make that, GREAT! And He knows exactly what brings me the most joy: my kids!

Last week I was ecstatic when Mary gave me one of the very first copies of her new book, Choose Joy! She had worked so hard on a new genre of writing, and to be true to her friend, Sara's, message. Holding Mary's book eclipsed the twinge of sadness for the loss of our first child that creeps up during Advent.

I keep an assortment of musicals in our DVR. Lots of music for lots of moods.  A sure-fire pick me up is always "The Music Man". We just found out we'll be hearing, and seeing a lot more of "The Music Man" for the next several months. James has been chosen to direct its production next summer for a local community theater. Instead of getting struck by the physical resemblance between James and my brother, or getting bogged down with grief for him, I'm celebrating James's latest endeavor.

This year we'll be celebrating with a couple more around the table. Rachael and Brandon were engaged this summer. Their joy was compounded when they were awarded custody of Brandon's kindergarten son, Parker. This will be our first Christmas to share with Parker. I could focus on the occasional bumps and bruises of blending families, or just look at the smile on Rach's face when she looks at Brandon and Parker.

So, Dear Reader, pardon my swag and ignore my limp. I'm choosing joy this Advent! What works for me is to count my blessings as often as I need to in order to Choose Joy. There may be days when it's not easy, but the choice is always worth the risk. Will you join me in choosing joy?

On Wednesday, I'll be linking this post to Giving Up on Perfect and Coffee for Your Heart.

Do you remember the L'Oreal commercials from several years ago? Gorgeous models brandishing their gorgeous hair? They gazed into their lovers' eyes (cameras), and boldly stated, "...because I'm worth it!" With that simple statement, they both empowered and gave us permission to pamper ourselves.

Or maybe you remember the Calgon commercials:

Have you ever felt like that? Too many demands, not enough time, energy or resources, and no respite in sight. The holiday season, with all of our good intentions and generosity, seems ripe for stress.

A few weeks ago, our cat, Magellan, succumbed to diabetes. Since then, our cat, Maisie, has been even more affectionate and demanding of our attention. Nearly every time I sit down, she launches her sleek and pudgy body onto my lap. I had begun to get a little annoyed by her intrusions, especially at breakfast time.

Pushing back in the recliner with my oatmeal in the morning has been one small way I pamper myself. Apparently, Maisie thinks she needs pampering, and affection. 

I keep soft throws in the living room. A couple of irritating leg issues are eased by their warmth. A little weight on my legs also helps to calm them down. Enter Maisie.

What began as an annoyance has evolved into a bit of pampering for both of us. Now, I look forward to a few moments for me: mornings, Maisie and me. Who knew? Cat + Blankie + Recliner = Pampering & Peace

Have you pampered yourself lately? Maybe it's a relaxing bath, or watching your favorite holiday movie without interruptions or distractions. Perhaps pampering for you is lunch with a friend or regular quiet time. 

Dear Reader, if you need a moment to just be taken away from hectic holiday plans and preparations, remind yourself that YOU'RE WORTH IT! What can you do for yourself in the next 24 hours? Go ahead, I dare you to indulge in a "me moment".

I get it. It was a Monday draped in doldrums. Our conference was nearly canceled due to low registration; the hotel was quiet. We were there the week immediately following Thanksgiving. I really get it. Bad weather, bad timing  . . . 

Bubbles. It looked like patrons were sealed in bubbles while eating their breakfasts. I was, too. I was updating my resume on my tablet while enjoying pancakes. Glancing around, I realized everyone seemed tethered to technology in their bubbles.

When did we become more interested in screens than souls? How did we become so detached in the name of efficiency? Is it because it seems safer? faster? less intrusive or confrontational?

Before going down to the courtyard breakfast area, I heard lots of group giggles and guffaws. Obviously, not all of us choose solitude. I was surprised to find the courtyard mausoleum quiet by the time I arrived. It made me wonder about the difference.