This year, I’m a bit behind on my usual holiday posts, and I realized that this one will land on Christmas Day. It made me wonder: What does Christmas mean to me in the context of personal finance, and do these two things even connect?

My first thought was the hyper-consumerism of Christmas. It’s hard to ignore that this time of year has become less about faith and more about spending—definitely not exactly the Jesus vibe, right? But gift-giving does come from a good place. After all, the wise men brought gifts, and they were meaningful ones. For me, my faith is rooted in that kind of love—acts of love that I read about in the Bible and see in the world around me.

Gift-giving is also one of the five love languages identified by Gary Chapman. If you’re unfamiliar with them, here’s a quick summary: the five love languages are words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch. I’ve always found the idea fascinating. For me, my love languages are acts of service and quality time, but my mother’s love language was gift-giving. Unsurprisingly, I think of her a lot during the holidays, and her absence feels even more pronounced this time of year. Yet, when I’m out shopping for gifts, I feel a weird sense of closeness to her, as though she’s with me in spirit. Maybe I’ve inherited a small dose of gift-giving into my own love languages.

It’s beautiful, really, to give and receive a thoughtful gift. But I can’t ignore the sadness that comes from how gift-giving has been warped by consumerism. Where is the line between showing love through a gift and just buying something to keep up with the holiday rush?

I do feel joy in finding the perfect gift for someone, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit some frustration with the obligations that come with holiday shopping. A lot of that frustration comes from my current financial situation, the limitations on my liquid cash, and the overwhelming baby boom on one side of my family. There are so many kids now, and while I love them all, I don’t know how to handle it. It feels strange not to buy them something, but at the same time, they don’t need anything. Some of them are closer to me than others, and I think this is where my understanding of gift-giving as a love language comes in—it’s about being seen, about not being forgotten or overlooked. These are elements of love.

With my mom gone, I reflect a lot on how those small, random gifts she would send throughout the year made me feel seen and heard. It wasn’t about the items themselves; it was about the fact that she paid attention. She would remember that I mentioned wanting something in passing and would find it for me, sometimes without me even realizing it. It was the thoughtfulness that counted.

One of my best friends does this too, and I don’t think she even realizes how much love I feel in that simple action, especially now that my mom is no longer here. I didn’t fully understand the depth of that love until I lost my mom, but I see it clearly now.

Today, I thought I’d sit down and write a diatribe against consumerism, but instead, I find myself defending it a bit—while also acknowledging the challenges of financially managing this strange action of love. And yes, there are plenty of budget-friendly ways to do it. You could Google “gifts under $5,” and you’ll get a million blog posts with ideas. I even ran a series of posts like that about 10 years ago, featuring gifts that didn’t suck, even if they were cheap (though, with inflation, who knows how much they’d cost now).

Ultimately, maybe this season is one where the love language of gift-giving can really shine. And for those of us whose love languages are quality time and acts of service, there’s more time than usual to nurture those connections too.

So, for those who celebrate, Merry Christmas! For those who don’t, Happy Wednesday! I hope you get to enjoy that weird, slower week between Christmas and New Year’s, where time seems to stretch out just a little longer than usual.