Tag Archives: gifts

Gifts of Thanks

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.

Why?

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?


Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. 2 Corinthians 9:7 ESV

White Rabbits

Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering – because you can’t take it in all at once. ~Audrey Hepburn

I don’t know how it started. No one does. But many years ago, probably 25 now, a Christmas package wrapped in a tin was offered to someone at the family Christmas celebration.

The box was a used candy tin from some of my father-in-law’s Chinese students. Whether the candy was tasty is long forgotten, even what was given in the tin that first year is not remembered.

But the tin . . . We remember.

You see every year, the tin is filled with a new present and given to someone else in the family. Everyone waits expectantly to see who will receive the “White Rabbit” gift that year.

It isn’t a large tin; the present will be something small . . . a gift card, a notebook for your purse, a pair of underwear. Really the present isn’t what we care about. It’s all about getting the White Rabbit tin.

There was a lull in White Rabbit giving for several years. We noticed its absence, but we didn’t know what had happened to it. Had we given the tin to someone out of the family by mistake? Had it been inadvertently thrown away or sent to a thrift store? Like Alice’s White Rabbit, it seemed to be gone.

Then, after many years, it reappeared.

My sister-in-law, new to the family tradition, had not known its importance. We failed to tell her of its significance. She received the tin, but never passed it on. Finally, by sheer luck, she placed a gift in it one Christmas.

There was great rejoicing in the house. The White Rabbit tin was back. Again we have no idea what the present was; but we remember and rejoice at its presence. Like a long lost friend, the tin reminds us of Christmases past.

Josiah was a child when he became king of Israel. After reigning for 18 years he sent to the temple to make repairs. The priest passed on a book he had found by chance.

It was the Book of the Law.

Josiah read the book and mourned that its contents had been forgotten and ignored. He spent the rest of his days trying to bring Israel into a right relationship with God.

Someone, somewhere, had put the Book of the Law aside. They didn’t know its importance, or the great present that it held inside. For many years it sat unopened, like a White Rabbit tin that was misunderstood.

God told Josiah that the Israelites would still suffer because of their faithlessness, but Josiah tried to make it right anyway. He wouldn’t let the present be forgotten again.

You, too, have an opportunity to open a long-forgotten present: The Bible. It’s not an old family tradition of forgettable presents in an unexceptional tin. Neither is it a book of laws condemning us to suffering and shame.

It’s a new present, filled with the Love of God. It brings joy, excitement, peace, and comfort every time it’s opened.

Don’t ever forget what’s inside.

And don’t ever stop giving it to others.


Shaphan read it, then went back to Josiah and reported, “Your officials collected the money in the temple and gave it to the men supervising the repairs. But there’s something else, Your Majesty. The priest Hilkiah gave me this book.” Then Shaphan read it out loud.

 When Josiah heard what was in The Book of God’s Law, he tore his clothes in sorrow. At once he called together Hilkiah, Shaphan, Ahikam son of Shaphan, Achbor son of Micaiah, and his own servant Asaiah. He said, “The Lord must be furious with me and everyone else in Judah, because our ancestors did not obey the laws written in this book. Go find out what the Lord wants us to do.” 2 Kings 22:9-13 CEV

Adoption That Keeps On Adopting

One year ago we adopted our newest addition, Captain. The seemingly sweet beagle pup needed a new home. His family was adding another human pup and were concerned about a snapping behavior he had with the youngest child. We drove over to their house to “look”, but Amos fell in love and the look became took.

We took Captain home, and within twelve hours I was ready to return him. He has a mean streak; they were right to be concerned about Captain near a little kid. His meanness, though, seems to be contained to moments when he wants things his way and no other. If he thinks he should be on the couch, and I never think he should be there, then he growls and snaps as he grumpily gets down and goes to his stool. If he thinks he should be allowed to jump up on Matt’s lap and eat off the table, and Matt thinks he should not do thusly, Captain snaps and grouchily glares at us from his designated time-out spot.

Yet, here we are a year later, still feeding, bathing, and caring for Captain. Honestly, if it weren’t for Amos, another family that was “looking” after we did would have had the little guy. But Amos saved Captain, because I love Amos and was willing to forgive the dog his offenses for Amos’s sake.

007It helped Amos’s case that Kelly had come before Captain. I learned some things from her and have a little more patience for badly behaved dogs because of her. Kelly was trouble, just like Captain, wanting her way, peeing on my carpet, dragging fleas into the boys’ beds, and tearing into the garbage. But ten years with Kelly taught me that she was a gift, sent to teach me what it feels like to be my Father.

In this season of gift-giving, look for the gift that gives back unexpectedly. Perhaps a puppy or kitten, perhaps a night in a soup kitchen, or perhaps, just maybe, there is a babe in a manger waiting to grow in your heart.

“Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!” 2 Corinthians 9:15