Just For The Fun Of It

Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice!

“CAN YOU DROP THIS OFF FOR ME TOMORROW?” I asked my husband as we got ready for bed one night.

“Sure, Kristin,” he said as he finished brushing his teeth and turned to look at me. “Which neighbor do you have this year?”

“I’ve got Joy,” I said, mentioning a woman several houses down from ours.

He nodded in response. “I’ll do it on my way to the gym in the morning.”

Can you drop this off for me is a question I’ve asked my husband many times, especially in December. That’s because nearly every year the ladies in our quiet cul-de-sac participate in a Secret Santa gift exchange.

Originally my neighbor Debbie’s idea, it’s still going strong after more than a decade.

After drawing a name, we spend Monday through Friday of the designated week secretly dropping off small daily gifts for that person—candy, nail polish, fuzzy socks, a small candle. Though I enjoy the exchange overall, I will say that I’ve never felt as conspicuously exposed as I do when trying to sneak a gift bag across the street on a Tuesday afternoon, hoping that no one is looking out their window or exiting their home.

There’s nothing quite like slinking around the neighborhood as a grown adult, feeling like you’re starring in a bad spy movie—thus, my reason for asking my husband to do the drop-offs in the early, predawn hours. In recent years, we’ve gotten smarter and outsourced gift delivery to the neighbor kids, who delight in dropping off brightly wrapped packages on porches when they arrive home from school in the afternoon.

On Saturday we cap the week by sharing brunch, exchanging a final gift, and revealing our identity.

Though I live next to these women all year, we rarely get to have in-depth conversations about life. Of course, we wave hello while watering plants, shoveling snow, or picking up packages at the mailbox, but this annual tradition helps ensure that we reconnect and catch up on everything that’s happened over the last year. We’ve shed tears over lost loved ones, celebrated successes or job changes, and smiled over kids’ antics. I look forward to brunch with my neighbors every year—just because it’s fun.

All too often, holiday events are obligations. That’s not to say we don’t enjoy the work party, kids’ orchestra concert, or umpteenth family gathering, but sometimes the feeling that our presence is required rather than requested can steal some of the joy.

How many things do we do at the holidays simply for the joy of it? Shouldn’t we try to make room for fun?

In Ecclesiastes, the author makes it clear that we should counterbalance work with time spent enjoying food and the fruits of our labor, as these are gifts from God: “I recommend having fun, because there is nothing better for people in this world than to eat, drink, and enjoy life. That way they will experience some happiness along with all the hard work God gives them under the sun” (8:15). God gave us today, and he wants us to enjoy it like the gift it is—and even to rejoice in it.

Let’s find reasons to celebrate that bring us joy and don’t feel like obligations. We can—and should!—participate in annual activities like our neighborhood Secret Santa tradition with friends and neighbors. There’s a certain joy in keeping something going every year, something that’s just for the fun of it. Reconnecting with others brings joy to our lives and lightness to our spirit.

Though it can be challenging, I try to leave room in our calendar for fun, especially in December. For instance, my kids love doing a white elephant gift exchange. We go to a big-box store, give everyone a ten-dollar limit, and spend time choosing two gifts: one that we think is funny and one that is useful or delicious. (Unsurprisingly, everyone chooses candy as their second item.) At home, we wrap them and exchange them by playing a game.

We’re also big on family movie nights (our long list of favorite Christmas movies and “fancy popcorn” with marshmallows and chocolate candies in it feature prominently); watching the stars from the warmth of our outdoor hot tub; and incorporating small acts of kindness for others, like leaving “candy bombs” full of treats and a thoughtful card on cars in the parking lot at our local hospital. Those annual traditions aren’t necessary but are always meaningful, and we look forward to them every year.

Increased candy intake aside, those moments of fun can help me get off the merry-go-round of busyness and fully enjoy the gift of the season rather than constantly fueling the rush from one event or task to the next.

If a neighborhood brunch feels too burdensome, start small. There’s no need to add more to our calendar, feel overwhelmed, or think we must force the fun. Instead, consider something you’re already doing, like eating meals three times a day. Could you share your morning cup of coffee with a neighbor? Have lunch with a coworker or grab a smoothie with someone after a workout at the gym?

Or maybe there are other activities you could overlap with a friendly visit. Could you plan to grocery shop at the same time as a friend so you can visit together while strolling through the aisles? Stay after church for a few extra minutes to chat with someone? Call a friend while you wait for a child to finish basketball practice? Text someone on your lunch break? Or, if you’re feeling overloaded, consider that rest can be an underrated form of fun—and take a break or sneak in a catnap.

Holiday celebrations and traditions aren’t just something we do with family or because they’re mandatory but because life is meant to be enjoyed. Today, let’s choose to have fun.

Dear Jesus, thank you for the gift of fun. Life is precious, and it’s meant to be enjoyed. Instead of hurrying through our days or running from one task to the next, remind us to stop and find something to do just because it’s enjoyable. Help us to remember that even routine things, like daily meals, can be opportunities to add a little joy to our lives. May we always remember to thank you for the things in this world that are fun and spark delight. Amen.