As I prepare for the upcoming holiday season, I’m reminded — once again — of just how much goes into Christmas. I love Christmas. Always have, always will. The decorating, the gifting (even during the lean years), the Christmas cards (yes, I still send them), and most importantly, the deep sense of faith that anchors it all for me. There’s just something magical about this time of year — the lights, the music, the smells of cinnamon and pine — it fills my heart. But if I’m honest, it all comes with a cost. Sometimes, that cost is my mental health. I want everything to be perfect — the house, the tree, the gifts, the gatherings — but somehow, perfection always slips through my fingers. There’s always something left undone, some plan that doesn’t quite happen. And for years, I’ve let that steal a bit of the joy from my season. Between working two jobs (not including my little shop), raising five adult kids, enjoying two beautiful grandkids, caring for a needy mother, and supporting a sister going through tough times, I often feel stretched thin. And yet, in the middle of all that, I know how lucky I am. I get to do what I love, to help the people I love — even if it sometimes leaves me a little weary. Everyone tells me I do too much. That I volunteer too much. That I never sit still. And you know what? They’re right. But this year, I’m listening. This year, I want to enjoy my Christmas. Really enjoy it. I want to love it not for how “perfect” it looks, but for how real it feels. I want to slow down, soak it all in, and find peace in the simple things — laughter around the table, quiet moments by the tree, the soft glow of candlelight on a cold night. More than anything, I want to carry the true spirit of the season in my heart — love, faith, gratitude, and grace. Let’s see how that goes…  Would you like me to help you come up with a title and short introduction (something that hooks readers on your blog homepage)?