Gifts
What if there were no gifts? I know it is hard to fathom, but think for a minute about it. What if you never received a gift ever in your life? What if you never gave a gift either? What would you be missing? If there were no gifts I think we would be missing plenty. We would miss the glee of receiving and we would miss the joy of seeing someone’s face light up after they opened our gift to them. I think there is greatness in each of these. Gifts are amazing to receive because we have done nothing to warrant them. Whether given or received, true gifts come from a place of love.
Being a preacher’s kid, our family lived in a parsonage for about seven years (a parsonage is a house next to a church that the church owns and lets a preacher live in as part of his “pay”). It was literally a “stone’s throw” from our house to the church building (but don’t ever tell my dad I threw stones at it). It was a little country church and a neat place to live. On another part of the property, about 50 yards from my bedroom window was a cemetery. You may think it would be creepy to live that close, but it was pretty cool. We had some fun games of “Ghost in the Graveyard”!
I remember the times when someone would die and the gravediggers would come out to dig their grave. The Missouri soil is very rocky in that area. So, it was quite a job for the workers. They had heavy machinery to dig up some pretty massive rocks. I used to love to go out and watch them dig. Notice the emphasis on the word watch. I do not recall ever lifting a finger to help the workers. Regardless, there was always an older man; he was the head of the crew, who always gave me a half-dollar for “helping out”. I used to love visiting with him and watching him work because it was intriguing, but also I knew there was probably a half-dollar in it for me. I never spent those half-dollars. I saved them all and still have them today. They were special gifts given to me for no special reason at all and it meant so much. I did not know why the man gave it to me other than the fact that he was cool. Looking back now, I think I have some hunches as to why he did it. Maybe he just wanted to give me a gift to see my face light up. Maybe he just wanted to let me know that I was special. Whatever the reason, I am sure of one thing; it was good.
Our Father in heaven looks down on us and sees us as dirty kids who are intrigued by His works. He does not have to give us a half-dollar or an ounce of His time. Yet, He gives us so much more, something so good that every time I think of it, my face lights up and every now and then a tear comes to my eye. He gave to us the gift of His Son. I do not know the fullness of why He gives this gift, but I have some hunches as to why. Maybe to show us we are special. Maybe because He wants to see our face and our lives light up. Whatever the reason for this awesome love, I know it is good.
Being a preacher’s kid, our family lived in a parsonage for about seven years (a parsonage is a house next to a church that the church owns and lets a preacher live in as part of his “pay”). It was literally a “stone’s throw” from our house to the church building (but don’t ever tell my dad I threw stones at it). It was a little country church and a neat place to live. On another part of the property, about 50 yards from my bedroom window was a cemetery. You may think it would be creepy to live that close, but it was pretty cool. We had some fun games of “Ghost in the Graveyard”!
I remember the times when someone would die and the gravediggers would come out to dig their grave. The Missouri soil is very rocky in that area. So, it was quite a job for the workers. They had heavy machinery to dig up some pretty massive rocks. I used to love to go out and watch them dig. Notice the emphasis on the word watch. I do not recall ever lifting a finger to help the workers. Regardless, there was always an older man; he was the head of the crew, who always gave me a half-dollar for “helping out”. I used to love visiting with him and watching him work because it was intriguing, but also I knew there was probably a half-dollar in it for me. I never spent those half-dollars. I saved them all and still have them today. They were special gifts given to me for no special reason at all and it meant so much. I did not know why the man gave it to me other than the fact that he was cool. Looking back now, I think I have some hunches as to why he did it. Maybe he just wanted to give me a gift to see my face light up. Maybe he just wanted to let me know that I was special. Whatever the reason, I am sure of one thing; it was good.
Our Father in heaven looks down on us and sees us as dirty kids who are intrigued by His works. He does not have to give us a half-dollar or an ounce of His time. Yet, He gives us so much more, something so good that every time I think of it, my face lights up and every now and then a tear comes to my eye. He gave to us the gift of His Son. I do not know the fullness of why He gives this gift, but I have some hunches as to why. Maybe to show us we are special. Maybe because He wants to see our face and our lives light up. Whatever the reason for this awesome love, I know it is good.
posted by Matt @ 11/23/2004 04:58:00 PM
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