And so goes the drumbeat of commercialism: more, more, more.<\/p>\n
All the while we Christians are called to answer Advent\u2019s hushed invitation for less, less, less. To clear out our closets and turn off our phones, to resist the click-and-procure in favor of the wait-and-wonder. What a challenge it is to make space for the other, for the divine. Filling sets off all our bells and whistles; emptying requires discernment and allows for quiet.<\/p>\n
Americans prefer the former. We have so much self-storage space, the Self Storage Association once pointed out, it is physically possible that every American could stand at the same time under the canopy of self-storage roofing.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been reflecting on the art of gift giving \u2014 what it can do for us, at its best, and what it neglects to do at its hastiest. The more you put in, the more you get out.<\/p>\n
My neighbor recently showed me her favorite Christmas picture book, Holly Hobbie\u2019s 2007 charmer \u201cToot & Puddle: Let It Snow,\u201d in which a pair of best friends \u2014 who happen to be pigs \u2014 struggle to determine the perfect gifts for each other. Puddle labors in his attic, painting an image of the twosome in the woods. Toot, meanwhile, spends \u201cevery spare minute in his workshop in the basement\u201d building a sled on wheels \u2014 one that will work with or without snow.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe knew that the best present was usually something you made yourself, a one-of-a-kind thingamajig, not just a whatsit anyone could buy in a store,\u201d Hobbie writes.<\/p>\n
Indeed, the sweetest gifts require a commodity more precious than treasure: time. <\/p>\n