Articles
The Gifts
I was recently shopping at one of those large buy-in-bulk stores—the kind where you need to set aside an afternoon for a visit because it takes so long to get from one side to the other. While there, I scanned their toy section for gift ideas and noticed a great grandma. She was old and frail, standing alone, and closely examining the toys, picking a pink box up and squinting at it.
I went down the aisle, up the next, then came back. The woman hadn’t moved. She was still peering at the same box. It looked like it was some sort of kid’s microphone with special sound effects. I could only guess what was going on, but I assumed she was out shopping for a young girl and didn’t know what that girl really wanted and whether she would enjoy this gift.
The woman stirred my imagination. I couldn’t help but think of how things would play out from here. She’d buy the gift, lovingly wrap it, and give it to her granddaughter / great granddaughter. But the gift would not be right, not what the child really liked. There would be a polite thank you (upon prompting from a parent) and the girl would go on opening up some other gifts. It would not be appreciated, because the out of touch grandparent didn’t really know what I… I mean, she… really liked. Yes, it was my own childhood memories that were being triggered, when I received gifts from my great grandmother. She was never around enough to know what I played with and what I didn’t like. She didn’t know. And she wasn’t the only one. There were lots of relatives who would buy me something that I wasn’t really interested in.
As a child, my reaction made sense. There were things that I liked and things that I didn’t like. When someone gave me something I didn’t like, they had made a mistake. I didn’t want them to feel bad, but they hadn’t done a good job. They didn’t know me and didn’t know how to make me happy. That’s what I thought back then.
Only, I hadn’t seen them shopping. I only saw the gift. There, in the toy aisle, it was like I could see my own great grandmother for the first time. The woman studied and thought and considered so carefully. I imagine it had been quite an effort for her to drive to the store. I pictured her shuffling across the parking lot and to this part of the store. And from what I could tell, she’d done all of that for this one girl. She didn’t seem to be shopping for anything else. It was all for me…I mean, the little girl.
My stomach churned and my heart was pierced in that aisle that day.
It was too easy for me to focus on whether the gift was the right gift for me and not see the love and effort that the gift represented. I would love to tell you that this was just because I was a spoiled little child and that I quickly grew out of that, but that wouldn’t be true.
God blesses me all of the time, and too often I think about whether the blessing is exactly what I want and don’t take into consideration the love and effort God has put into blessing me. If the food isn’t the type of food I like, should I be less thankful? If the weather isn’t exactly the type I like, should I be less thankful?
“I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Ps. 139:14). Should I be less thankful when my eyesight isn’t as great as I’d like? Should we be less thankful because we can nitpick about how our bodies aren’t just the way we want them? Some are too short. Some are too tall. Some ears are too big or too small. Some people have eyebrows that merge into a single eye brow. Some have hair that won’t curl just right and others have hair that will never lay straight. We can complain and be dissatisfied, but all of us were fearfully and wonderfully made. God has shown His love for us.
Step away from your selfish wants and count the blessings that God has showered on you. See His love and truly give thanks.
