The Gift

He had been anticipating this special day for weeks, counting down the hours that had crept painfully slow. There were more presents under the tree than he could even count, and, oh, the thrill . . . many of them had his name on the tags!  And now Christmas Day was here at last!  He could barely contain his excitement!

He opened the first one, ripping into the paper, the bow flying off.  It was a . . . a book?  Well, that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but Ok, he thought.  A book is good.  I like to read.  And still, there were many more gifts to open.  One by one, he opened the packages.  A skateboard.  A basketball.  A chess set.  And with each present that he opened, his shoulders stooped just a little bit more, and each “thank you” became less and less enthusiastic.  When the last gift had been opened, he looked around in utter disbelief, threw himself onto the floor in a heap, and wailed, “But I wanted an X-Box!”

Poor kid.  He didn’t get the one gift he had hoped for.  The one he had been envisioning.  And all of the other gifts, by comparison, were inferior.  It wasn’t that he was ungrateful.  He just couldn’t help but feel disappointed and heart-broken.  Let down.  His dreams for the perfect gift had been dashed.

I get it.  I’m just like my foster son on that Christmas morning long ago.  My dreams were so big and my expectations were so high.  I had prayed and hoped and anticipated the gift that the Lord was going to give me.  I just knew that what He gave me would exceed my wildest expectations.¹

He gave me a gift, alright.  But it wasn’t the one I was expecting.

We are a Family

As each child’s face flashes across the large screen in the front of the auditorium, each picture more adorable than the one before, everyone in the congregation oohs and ahhs.   The picture of little girl with the pink bow, the bow that attempts to contain her blond curls.  The photo of the sleeping baby boy wrapped in a hand-knitted blanket.   The image of the twins lying end to end like two peas in a pod.  Someone from the tech team had added a beautiful soundtrack to the slideshow – a sweet song about children being treasured gifts from the Lord.  It is so stirring and tender, that a few people here this Sunday have to brush away a tear or two.  There are few creatures more precious than an innocent child.  Few people more proud than a new parent.  Few moments more solemn than when a parent stands in front of the Church and dedicates that child to the Lord.   

When the slideshow ends, the new parents bring their children forward for the dedication ceremony.  These sweet children in real life are even more adorable than their pictures!  Families make their way towards the front of the auditorium.  Grandparents sneak into the aisles to snap pictures.  Others in the audience crane their heads to get a better look.  The children themselves are oblivious to the significance of the occasion.  They are just content to be held in their parents’ arms.