I’ve been inundated with the idea of “gift” this week.
Like how my children are a gift. Sure, I played a small role in incubating
them and maybe even conception. But
reality is that I didn’t knit them together in womb. I didn’t orchestrate that miraculous moment
when part of me joined with part of him to become each of my daughters. That's outside my scope of ability. Besides, thinking of them as gifts is
motivation to keep my head up and keep smiling.
Particularly on those days they’re behaving more like a curse than a
gift.
What Mary did for Jesus, in anointing His feet, was a gift. She sacrificed, most likely denied herself of
something, in order to save up for her special gift; the perfume. Its original intent was for after His death, but she chose to give her gift while He was still living. The funny part was that even though she
selected a public location to attempt to give her gift in secrecy, it soon
became known to everyone around her. She
was found out then, yet is still talked about now, in 2012. Her story, her gift is forever etched into
history.
Then there are gifts, like for Christmas, birthday, just
because days. I must admit—I do enjoy
receiving gifts. My preference isn’t jewels
or expensive baubles. I don’t need a
gift just because convention calls for you to give me something, so you get me
anything. I like the gifts that the
giver takes time to think about. It can
be handmade or purchased. It could come
from the dollar store or some top of the line big name place. The point is that the giver thought long and
hard about me and when they saw that item, it was something that they connected
to me. Sometimes the there’s more gift
in the story than in a thing.
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Okay, so that time just zoomed by a bit too quickly. I wasn't ready to be done yet. Click below to read more and join in on the five minute Friday fun for yourself. It's blast.
