Unwanted presents can be divided roughly into two categories.
There is the type that is simply a spur-of-the-moment, stop-gap measure, and usually cheap. These gifts are bought when someone remembers that so-and-so will be at that party and we should give them something. And so they do.
You want to say, “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” but you are afraid of sounding overly honest.
The second division is comprised of gifts that are thoughtful, in a way, and would be, to the right person, fairly stunning. This is because the giver has invested time and reflection into the gift. The problem is, she has failed to think about who is receiving the present. In other words, the present may be admirable—but it doesn’t correspond to the recipient.
Over the years, Lindsay and I have received a variety of gifts in both camps. Some we have carefully filed in our neighborhood dumpster, some we have sold, some we have given away. A few we have held onto, just for laughs.
Now, it seems clear to me that where God’s gifts are concerned, they largely fall into the second of the above two categories. At least the way I see it.
Because I can visualize the kind of gifts that I’d really appreciate if God were to give me, and apparently he hasn’t caught on yet. I mean, he gives me things all the time. Does he not think carefully enough about who these gifts are for?
Things I would like, that God could give me if he wanted to:
- A 44-inch vertical, which would be tops in the NBA. Shoot, let’s make it an even four feet.
- The story story-plotting ability of Robert Louis Stevenson, combined with Dickens’ knack for characterization and Tolkien’s imagination, which would result in the great American novel.
- Some money.
I could go on. But you get the idea. If only God knew what I really wanted, then we could get somewhere. God insists on giving me things all the time, which is embarrassing, in a way, like a generous relative who just won’t stop—but as long as God keeps on handing out merchandise…
Sunlight, cool air, my wife, the world we live in. Then the more specialized items—forgiveness, friendship with Jesus, a conversational closeness with the Father, a heart revitalized by the Spirit, grace—these are mind-boggling and wonderful, but they also make me look cheap, and kind of small, while making God look good.
Couldn’t I have something with more immediate application? Like an iPod?
The things God gives me are based on an assumption that is beautiful—that I am growing up to be Jesus’ little brother, that I am aspiring to immortality, that I am humble and love the light of truth—and these assumptions, quite honestly, bring a heavy load of conviction and expectation. They make me look bad.
When God says that he wants to give me the earth, as his child, or that he intends for me to be “like Jesus,” a lot of my preoccupations seem beside the point. I appreciate the fact, Father, that you are transforming my soul, and it makes me feel like I should live with a lesser amount of levity, but in the meantime—could I have a new CD?
Unwanted gifts are generally things we don’t need or want. Not with God. With Christ, we get precisely what we need, though we may not have asked for it, and our reaction to his presents reflect on our lack of thoughtfulness, not his. In the words of a poet, "God's best gifts put man's best dreams to shame."
The surprise I can understand. Who would have ever asked for the son of a God to die for him? But this disbelief should give way to wonder, not raised eyebrows. The gifts of God have a way of defining the people who accept them.
3 comments:
Oh, if it were so simple as to just get from God what we know we really need! But then, to realize He knows better, He loves us more than we love ourselves, our own children, so that each thing he gives or withholds is because He loves us so...we are defined not only by our accepting them, but maybe by what we do with them? If we could only see a gagillionith of the perspective He has...maybe we'd begin to get it...
"We are defined not only by our accepting them, but maybe by what we do with them?"
I think that's a good distinction to make, Captain, because while I know that God offers me grace all the time, I wince to think how frequently I fail to fully avail myself of it. Likewise, prayer. The gift has been extended, and I've embraced it...to an extent.
Sometimes it takes discipline (and calls for more grace, more help) to get past the wrapping paper.
It'll be a great day when God's eternal perspective arrives in my mind to stay. In the meantime, so much of life is spent in trying to make it "stick."
I love this post! This may be my favorite one yet! I think I'm going to read this one to my youth group, build a devotional around it. This was just too good!
I also liked your analogy about the wrapping paper. It brings to mind that God must be sitting up there like some parents on Christmas morning, shaking His head. "I give them sun, moon, wind, air, sunsets, clouds, life, breathe, trees, fish, birds, plants, mountains, rivers, lakes, valleys, etc... and all they want to do is play with the box." ;)
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