Preparing for Christmas two years ago, I took Faith and Abram to a local discount store and let them choose presents for their Mom and Day.
On our drive there I asked, “Do you think Mom and Day would rather have books or toys?” The happy loud answer from the backseat was “Toys!” That particular year, Mom received a bath ball that turned into a dinosaur and Day got a toy ukulele.
This year I asked the same question and Faith told me that she and Abe had already discussed it (her words). She said they thought Mom would like a statue and a book about statues and Day would like a race car and book about the same. They weren’t able to find those exact items, but did choose some other things that reflected they’re growing up—except for one item. Abe saw a plastic bat and ball and was positive that Day would LOVE it. About five minutes after putting it in our basket, he confided that he KNEW if he asked Day if HE could have it, Day would give it to him. Made me giggle all over inside.
They always wrap these gifts themselves. This year they used the wrapping paper cutter and thoughtfully chose different papers for each gift. Their packages are extra securely taped—some with 12 inch pieces. Abe remarked several times that he wasn’t a very good wrapper, but he didn’t give up; and Faith asked for some advice on getting the ends neatly tucked. Now the gifts, chosen with careful deliberation and debate, then wrapped with love by four and seven year old fingers, are laid out and waiting for Christmas morning. Mom and Day won’t be looking for perfection in either the gifts or the wrappings, instead they’ll celebrate the love they represent.
I wonder if that’s how God sees what we bring to him. I wonder if he loves us all the more when we don’t know how or what to do—so we just do our best. Then, when our finished product is less than perfect, and we know we’re not very good wrappers and we didn’t know how to fold the corners neatly, we can still rest in Him because we know that He knows and remembers.
The LORD is like a father to his children,
tender and compassionate to those who fear him.
For he knows how weak we are;
he remembers we are only dust.