Thursday, December 3, 2015

Christmas Story








I was running in Sycamore Grove Park taking in the sight of beautiful ribbons of silver and grey bark, giant golden leaves and a clear path ahead of me. It was a gift of a moment, perfect. Then a thought crossed my mind…and I started to weep from a sudden deep understanding of the truth…because one year my mother gave me a torn skirt for Christmas. It still had the tags on it. Marked down 30% off because it was damaged. It made me feel worthless, only worth getting a damaged useless gift. I sobbed at Sycamore Park because suddenly I understood the truth.

My Christmas Story

Imagine...taking as long as you need, planning, thinking about, then buying THE perfect gift for the one you love and cherish. Uncompromisingly perfect. Fits the need. Fills the longing. Its giving will be so good, satisfy more than any other gift before. 

Imagine picking out the perfect box for what’s inside, laying out the wrapping paper, creasing and folding up the edges just right, pulling out the tape so it doesn’t wrinkle. Placing it so it can’t be seen. 

Imagine trying out different bows and ribbons until you land on an incredible combination of wrap and ribbon. Imagine putting all of yourself into every step. Looping one strand over the other so you form a graceful bow. Holding it out at arm’s length. Checking it out. Turning it over. Loving your work, your selection, your passion in creating, your insistence that it be just right, your mind’s eye vision of its reception in the hands of the one you love. It’s perfect. 

And then you sigh the sigh of accomplishment. 
And then you say, “There. It’s Finished.” 

And then it hits you. “It is finished!” cried out from the cross. Jesus. Gift of all gifts. Perfect in every way. Planned with passion from the beginning of time. Jesus who fits every need. Fills the longing of every aching, grasping heart. Jesus. God’s gift to us. It is finished. Jesus, the gift of all gifts.

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