Re-Gift

I am a terrible gift giver.

Christmas before last, I attempted to make snow globes, but bought dwarf mason jars and big people. A good chiseling made them fit into the jars, only to lead them to their fate: a life of being green from the bleeding evergreen trees. Justin's mom put hers up this year, bless her kind soul.

When we were dating, I overheard Justin say he wanted a nice sports bag to take to the gym. I gleamed with pride at my clever detective skills. So I hurriedly ordered him a Nike bag online. It came in a gigantic box that towered up to my shoulders.

Oh. No. What. Did. I. Do. Ya ordered a Nike body bag. That's what you did. Note to self: Check dimensions next time. On a positive note, he now uses it to house the entire church softball team's helmets, bats, balls and other miscellaneous gear. You're welcome.

I'm that girl whose gift stays with the person that originally picked it at a Dirty Santa gathering. "Come on, people-- does anyone want this Santa salt and pepper set?"

Fast forward to this Valentine's Day. I am going to get it RIGHT this time. So I ordered him a vintage, custom watch early. Then I got the confirmation e-mail that the chick won't be mailing it until February 18th because she is recognizing the Chinese Festival. Ahhhh.

So I get this recollection during lunch today of him saying he wanted this particular video game. So I rush to the store and get it. Because I can't keep a secret to save my life, I send him a picture of the front with the cute headline: "Hope this can hold you over until your watch comes in." Silence.

He very sweetly tells me that he bought this in December. In December. Tears begin to slightly well up in my eyes; but then I tell myself that it's stupid to cry about such things. So I stop with the whole dumb welling up thing.

Later this afternoon, my early flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries arrived from him. He always seems to get it just right.

Sometimes this parallels with my spiritual life as well. I chisel. And I paint. And I shop. I do all of these things to put together the "perfect gift." And yet sometimes I am so caught up in doing, doing, doing that I forget about being, being, being. A gift that lacks relationship is not a real gift at all.

So I can be thankful that God (the Justin in this scenario-- don't tell him-- don't want him to get a complex) continues to shower me with blessings that I don't deserve. No matter how many times I chalk up a lame offering, he still smiles and says, "You are enough."

All I can say is that I'm so glad that I don't have to bring a party gift with me to the pearly gates. I'm so glad that I worship a God that doesn't require anything but a self-sacrifice.

And while this blog may not be as spectacular as your very own body bag, I hope that it blessed your day. That's one present I don't mind you re-gifting.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-21