I'm about to either brag or make a terrible confession.  I don't know which.

Yesterday I caved.  I bought an Elf on the Shelf. I decided several years ago that I wouldn't and every year I've stuck to it; from stubbornness more than principle. Until now.

I hid it in the cart at Target (not from my kids but from people like me who've decided they will not buy one, and from people who might think I don't know the meaning of Christmas).  At the checkout line I placed the box upside down as a token gesture of shame.  I started to explain to the clerk why I'd bought one, but for once, I had no words.

They're starting to form now.

I know there are several types of you out there reading this.  There are those of you that wonder why in the world I'd be ashamed.  I've probably seen pictures of your "Elves on the Shelves" posed in humorous manners and thought "I'd do that if we had one". Others, are possibly rolling your eyes because I've given in to the adult peer pressure unintentionally doled out by the "Mom's Club" (which I'm a sporadic member of). Then there are a handful of you who don't know/don't care about an Elf on the Shelf. I still don't know which category I fall in.  It changes according to my mood.

Our kids have only had their picture taken with Santa a few times.  Not because we're against it, but just because we're not that into it.  For one thing, I rather despise malls in the month of December. I hate waiting in line.  And honestly, I've made an attempt to make sure that Christmas is not about Santa, or reindeer.....or presents.......or believing hard enough so that you'll get the one thing you truly want.  And so I've found myself being a little rigid.  Christmas becomes a "naughty-nice list" of activities.  Threatening your kid to be nice or Santa won't come-Naughty. Making cookies for your neighbor-Nice. I want to do everything nice.....for Jesus

Rylie has been asking for an Elf on the Shelf for two years.  It was actually one of the few things she asked for this Christmas. I got her one not knowing if it was the nice or naughty thing to do.

I think now I'm realizing not everything divides up so easily that way.  I love looking at Christmas lights and reading letters to Santa asking for "ulektronicks" or "a new bik".  And though those activities don't have Jesus' name written all over them, they're a part of my Christmas.

She found "Jingle Belle", as she calls her, yesterday after school lined up with our nutcrackers on the fireplace. Getting ready to get comfortable in front of the TV, she had taken one shoe off.  That's when she spotted her elf and screamed.  She sat mesmerized for a good twenty minutes with just one shoe.

I have gotten such a kick out of watching her pure joy.

And I think it's reminded me of something important that I routinely forget.  Our activities, whatever we choose them to be, aren't nearly so important as the meditations of our heart.  The kindness of gifts given with much thought- like Angel tree gifts and jars of homemade salsa, remind me where kindness comes from.  The joy brought on by laughter at an ornament swapping party, the sight of sleeping newborn on Santa's lap, or even by an Elf on the Shelf, points me to Jesus.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O LORD, my rock and redeemer. Psalm 19:14