It was a promising premise. Our social networks were going to be such a great way to stay in touch with people from every nook and cranny of our lives. We could stay in contact with them all, effortlessly and all in one place. Even when it seemed weird that they were sharing photos of how well their food was plated at the Mexican restaurant down the street, we at least loved the transparency and the feeling of being connected. We craved it. We added friends to our lists like they were BOGO microwave dinners at the grocery store.
Redemption gets me every time.
Behind my obviously gruff exterior is a soft-hearted man who would cry at the drop of a hat and its subsequent return to its rightful owner. There is something about redemption and restoration and encouragement that clutches my heart and simply will not let it go before ensuring that my eyes well up and that I have to sniff back tears.
For the past several years now, Kristy and I have not actively given each other gifts at Christmastime. In fact, except for some of the closest children in our lives, we really haven’t given any one gifts at Christmastime. And we’ve never really taken the time to explain this odd behavior.