Most of life’s precious things are hidden in plainness, slowness, and quietness. If we would take hold of them, we must see beyond, slow down, and be still.
As was their Christmas tradition, the fellowship began to pick gifts from the “Dirty Santa” pile. Among them were a pair of miserable-looking offerings, grotesquely wrapped in old newspaper. They grabbed my attention as I keenly observed how everyone was careful to avoid them, rushing to grab a pretty one lest they be left no option but to pick up the foreboding unsightly presents.
Eventually, even they were picked, and the recipients’ visages could not hide their disappointment and dissatisfaction.
Beginning with the elaborately wrapped ones, the fellowship started unwrapping the presents. Box after box revealed beautiful edible delights or practical trinkets, and with each unveiling, the recipients of the humbly wrapped gifts despaired; so much so that at their turn, they protested unwrapping their gifts, opting to toss them back on the table despite much encouragement to open them from their friends.
Later, when everyone had left the festive table, I looked to find the despised gifts among the food and wrapping debris. I decided to take them home with me where I could give them the dignity of a private, sneerless unveiling.
What I found beyond the ugly wrapping, remain gifts that keep on giving me so much more than I could have dreamed of by just looking at their despicable presentation.
Outward appearances, first impressions, and all that glitters and gold have been the bane of our existence since the beginning. How quickly we discount and depreciate the innumerable gifts arrayed for us in nature, experiences, encounters, and people. Yet it is the nature of life in this realm that true glitter and gold are hidden in the depths of unattractive dirt, mess, and gore.
A “blue Monday” elicits groans from most of us, instead of praise and thanksgiving for another day in the land of the living. A grey week of rain fills us with gloom instead of gratitude for the water reservoirs refilling and the earth drinking deeply to quench forests’ thirst. A tragic loss cripples us instead of revealing the divine resilience of the spirit. A foul-smelling beggar nauseates instead of enlarging our hearts in awe of God’s sovereignty.
Perhaps the call for our outward-looking nature is to peer within, to look again, and to see beyond the glitter and gold, so as to perceive the beauty in the unsightly, discern the glory of the despicable, and appraise the wonder of the tedious. And therein glimpse the Gifts of God.
There was a time when I’d write long letters to God requesting an assortment of my heart’s desires:
“Please God, this Christmas, give us a big beautiful house where we can have our own rooms.”
“Please God, bless the work of our hands so we can have more income in the house”
“Please God, give me a smart phone so I can video call my family and friends abroad.”
“Please God, give me a handsome, rippling muscled husband.”
“Please God, give me a child.”
It’s been said, “be careful what you wish for…” A kind of foreboding on the nature of God’s gifts which often come wrapped in unsightly and undesirable packaging, like our blessed Saviour and Lord:
God is faithful. If we are careful to peer closer, we will see that He hears us and answers us.
Of the few requests in my Christmas letters to him, all were answered:
He gave us a big house with more rooms. Its beauty was ours to unwrap through its proper upkeep, cleaning, and decorating. He gave me jobs with lucrative remuneration. The covert gift of being the person who can ensure the income increases our wealth was ours to unwrap. He gave me the smartphone, but the real blessing is forging self-control so as not to be consumed by it. He did give me a heartthrob man, and learning to love him well is the inexhaustible treasure hunt.
In retrospect, I’ve noticed that I’ve dismissed many gifts, because I couldn’t see the chair in the tree, the Savior in a manger or the King on a criminal’s cross. Yet in the wake of my error, I have gleaned these treasures:
The gifts of God come clothed in frail humanity, and strain
It is often hard for us to see, recognize, and accept, the fearful wonder that is you and me and them when our unrealistic expectations collide with eventual humanness. From a distance, we see a hero, a superwoman, a god, or a goddess but the closer and longer we mingle and mesh, the more we see the mere mortal, the creature of dust and ashes and we are disenchanted.
The greatest event in history came and passed but only a handful recognized and received Him as four hundred years’ anticipation of a knight in shining armor were dashed, obscuring the majesty of the Messiah in a helpless baby laying in a manger, and El Shaddai, shredded and dying on a criminal’s cross.
We are too quickly and easily put off by things that require our strain and regard, at first sight, thereby missing their beauty, glory, and wonder and forfeiting the many benefits of perceiving and attaining.
But if we could see beyond the obvious and and the temporary pain for greater gains, we should find ourselves perpetually rejoicing in the gifts of God that come in unexpected and uncomfortable ways.
The gifts of God come in a moment, with time, in perfect love, and move at the pace of perfect grace.
We often miss God’s immeasurable gifts as we’re captured in the worries of yesterday, the hurry of today, and the scurry for tomorrow.
If you were to count, how many times would you be caught absent from a moment?
You may be in a conversation, on a date, in a meeting, at an occasion, in a queue at the bank or store, in prayer but your mind is partially or completely elsewhere. In this time of rapid technology, our ability to fully engage with and be absorbed by a moment is a treasure we must fight to preserve.
There is no quantifying how enriched our souls become when we are alive in a moment. Staying awake to a moment is a terrible hassle in a time when expertly curated distractions are ever before our eyes and at our fingertips. How poor we are for it!
Our futures are also ravaged because we are afflicted by haste. We simply cannot wait, for anything or anyone. Impatient to earn the right to lifestyles of the rich and famous, we amass debt. We crave love’s sweetness but cannot wait for the harvest times. We hope and dream but despair and give up easily, and too soon. We pray but, like Esau or King Saul, too quickly take matters in our own hands, screw things up, and lose God’s best.
Perfect love always has been, always is, and always will be God’s best.
I came across this poem about God’s best and it ever resounds whenever I am tempted to worry, hurry or flurry, past the presently present presents all around me in all of Abba’s creation and His imprint and spirit hovering over the face of this deep
~Love Walks Slowly
“God walks “slowly” because he is love. If he is not love he would have gone much faster. Love has its speed. It is an inner speed. It is a spiritual speed. It is a different kind of speed from the technological speed to which we are accustomed. It is “slow” yet it is Lord over all other speeds since it is the speed of love.”
Three Mile an Hour God: Koyama, Kosuke
So when you, and I may feel prompted to worry, hurry or scurry, if only we could slow down, and be still.
Selah.
[Pause.
Breathe.]
And sense the Spirit’s invitation to perceive, discern and appraise the gift clothed in frail humanity, of a moment in time, and patiently anticipate the coming time when we will see face to face, know fully and be fully known…
…And therein find ourselves in the rapture of praise and thanksgiving – our only reasonable response when we discover, uncover, and delight in the Indescribable Gift of God
xoxo
Nimi
Kingdom Purposed Daughter 
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