Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. ~William Arthur Ward
He was a scrawny little guy with a head too big for his body. A definite descendant of Calvin the comic strip if ever Calvin grew old enough to marry Susie.
Dad had skipped town with another woman. His mother was all he had. She was a great mother; she took him to ball games, caught frogs in the reservoir, and told bedtime stories with gore and goo.
He loved his mom.
He loved her so much he was saving acorns in his desk for her.
As autumn turned into winter the strange odor seeping from his desk drew my attention. The acorns were filled with maggots.
I explained in no uncertain terms that the acorns were to be thrown away and the desk thoroughly washed.
He was devastated.
Those acorns were his gift to his mother. He didn’t see the maggots; he saw the great joy that he had picking them up during recesses, plopping them in his pants’ pockets, squirreling them away in the pencil box. He knew his mother would love them.
I knew she would not.
Then I became a mother.
As a mother of boys, I was gifted rocks, sea shells, worms, even a dead mole. I was regaled with fantasies, jokes, and riddles. I was serenaded, hugged, and kissed with sticky, filthy fingers and faces. Occasionally I even received a fistful of flowers.
I loved every single gift.
Because they were given in love and appreciation. Something my boys valued was freely sacrificed and offered to me.
I didn’t need any of the gifts my sons gave me, but I treasured them like a Kindergartner’s maggot-filled acorns.
God doesn’t need anything you give him. But if you freely offer him a gift, He will accept it with tears of pride and joy glistening on his cheeks.
What will you offer God this week?