Christmas is upon us! ‘Tis the season, my friends!

The gifting and the gatherings should never overshadow that Jesus is the reason for the season, yet those are a grand part of the celebration. I don’t believe we offend God in our celebration if we keep the focus on Him.

Christmas was magical as a kid. No school, pajamas all day, a glittering Christmas tree, presents wrapped in colored paper. I am certain I heard reindeer on the roof one year – I was sure of it!

And the wish list … epic. Every year Granny had the Sears Wish Book for the grandkids to pore through. We’d find it, circle it, put our names by it, and dog-ear the page. Granny and Grandaddy lived a simple life on a steelworker’s pension in West Birmingham. But one of those selections always showed up specially wrapped.

These days our family is spread out. Our son, daughter-in-law and perfect grandkids come from out-of-state the day after Christmas. Our daughter is married and lives a few hours away. We recognize we are sharing time with the in-laws, but that just helps make it a “season.”

Charlene and I had a quiet Christmas Eve together last year and decided to open presents from one another by ourselves so that we could focus on everyone else later. I was pretty pleased with my shopping acumen … until she opened some of them! When you’ve celebrated 37 Christmases together you learn to read the signs: The slightly raised eyebrows, the slower-than-usual removal from the package, the effort not to wrinkle the packaging so it can go back in the box it came in.

Sometimes I nail it! But all those occasional shopping victories do is give me a false sense of confidence for future shopping. So Charlene and I worked out a system. Every year she sends me her “list,” complete with online sizes and colors. It guarantees she will get something she actually wants. I just click the links, and the perfect gifts magically appear for me to wrap and place under the tree like I’ve really done something.

Of course, there was that one year when, unbeknownst to me, things went awry. As my wife and daughter unwrapped a string of identical presents complete with colors and sizes, I thought, “That’s odd … surely not … what could this be? What Christmas grinchery is this?” It turns out that scrolling down the list would have revealed that Charlene’s items were at the bottom. Being the awful man-shopper that I am, I ordered everything on my daughter’s list for my wife. Awesome!

But I’ve been known to be headstrong. I like to know I’ve contributed in some meaningful way to my wife’s Christmas joy. That, my friends, is what we at the Williams house lovingly call “freelancing”! That moment when I stray from the wish list and take a chance that some other shopping notion might be that present of presents that brings the look to her face that I’ve seen, oh, I don’t know, maybe a couple of times during our 38 years of marriage? A mix of wonder, surprise and delight! A bit of awe that I could gift something she didn’t even know she wanted and now can’t live without! “I am the man! An awesome husband and a prolific freelance shopper! Stand and be amazed!”

In that vein, I was delighted last year to find that her favorite online store had a new way of coaching husbands. I noticed the checkout page said, “Because you bought that one, you’ll love this one,” followed by actual suggestions of other things that my wife of 37 years would be sure to love! Clothes, shoes, accessories … it was a revelation! I could freelance without really freelancing!

Yeah, about that: the shoes were the wrong size; the pants almost got a snicker as if she had opened someone else’s gift; and the blouse, well, she’s a Southern lady so she almost said, “Bless your heart,” but she held back.

Three-and-a-half decades of Christmases have taught me that keeping receipts is top priority.

But in the aftermath of my freelancing, it occurred to me what a blessing it is that I can be a bad shopper. It sounds weird, but it’s true. It is an absolute blessing to know that I live in a nation where the choices for gift-giving are so prolific and abundant that there are probably more chances to get it wrong than there are to get it right.

Charlene and I are not rich, but I am aware that we are blessed indeed. So much so that I can be a bad shopper. When we were newlyweds, I didn’t have that luxury. We were poor as church mice and every dime counted. You didn’t take a chance on getting it wrong. There was careful attention to sizes, a call to the mother-in-law for advice, and you thought twice before any freelancing. Money was put aside in envelopes to ensure we didn’t overspend. Focus was on the kids first and we made sure they had no clue that times were tight.

Was I just a better steward then? Maybe. But I also recognize that the stewardship of the past has yielded the blessing of grown kids who never went without, a table that always had food on it, and a gratefulness now that is far deeper. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

So yes, I’m not always a great shopper. In reflection, I’ll work to tighten that up a bit. But I also take that to mean that I am very, very blessed.

Sometimes, bad shopping is a sign of big blessing.

To contact Phil or request him for a speaking engagement, go to www.rightsideradio.org.

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