Tag: Gift

Gifts of the Season

Published on by Marilyn7 Comments

In this post Robynn beautifully wraps up Christmas for us by giving us a glimpse of the gifts of the season. 

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Christmas gifts

There was wrapping paper and bows everywhere. There was a lovely tree full of sentiment and ornament. But here’s the best of what I received this Christmas:

*Our friend from Christmas past, John, came through the week before Christmas Day. He brought a box full of various shampoos. I know it’s awfully random but it pleased me.

*Adelaide wanted to buy her “enemy” a present with her very own money. She thought it might change her heart toward this girl at school she struggles to like. I don’t know if it did. But it changed mine thinking she would do that.

*A friend, fellow church goer, close associate wrote me a letter a week before Christmas and apologized for pain she had caused me nearly 7 years ago. It made me cry. I had moved on–I had chosen to forgive without the apology. But her letter softened my heart and filled me with a quiet peace. She is released. And I am lighter for it.

*I have a kind mother-in-law who suffers great physical pain. She has for years. Seeing her face light up at the sight of her granddaughters blessed me. It’s a gift to have her in our lives and to live so close to them now is sweet privilege.

*A boy in Bronwynn’s class greeted me on the way to school the other morning with a finger pointing up to the sky. An enormous flock of geese flew overhead. Look at the Birds! I did. And my faith grew as I remembered Jesus cares. And I told Ryan to have a great day. He had made mine.

*A tattered envelope arrived all by itself on December 21. The bottom was mostly torn off, the contents hung precariously inside. And in it was an enormous check for an insanely large amount from sacrificial saints. And I cried.

*I loved seeing Connor, our 15-year-old son, decked out in his tuxedo, singing with 79 other public high school students, “Rejoice, Sing Praises to the Lord our God”. It was worship in an unexpected place. The force of it, the harmonies, the potential of it all brought tears to my eyes.

Grace just shows up! We are changed when we notice it and offer it hospitality.

That’s the essence of my one resolution this year: Notice. Invite. Embrace. Change.

What are your gifts from the season? Would love it if you shared with us through the comments! 

Free Wine – Fridays with Robynn

Published on by Marilyn5 Comments

English: Glass of Red Wine with a bottle of Re...

On a day this week when I most needed it, Robynn’s post on Free Wine arrived. I hope you will receive this as the gift that it is. Sit down and enjoy “Free Wine” by Robynn.

Lowell and I went to see All My Sons, an Arthur Miller tragedy, on Saturday night. During intermission we decided to share a glass of wine. We got in line. It’s a small community theater. The foyer is intimate, small, cozy. As we waited in line Lowell chatted with the gentleman behind him, his major professor from his graduate study days. Its small town moments like this that I love. We are part of the community.

When we got to the front of the queue I handed the bartender my credit card, asking simultaneously, “Do you take plastic?”

He shook his head with a little regret and a little joy but then he continued, “What do you want? I’ll be happy to get it for you.” I was embarrassed and a little flustered, “Oh, that’s ok.”

       “No really. I give away alcohol all the time. I’m technically not allowed to charge. This is all donation based. If you want you can come next time and leave a donation to cover it.”

Knowing myself, my memory, I shook my head, “With my forty- two year old brain I don’t trust myself.  I wouldn’t remember!”

   “Oh that’s ok. What do you want? What can I give you?”

I was flustered. The line was waiting. It’s a small space. Everyone was watching as this intermission drama unfolded.

“I’ll have a glass of red wine please.” I asked sheepishly, awkwardly.

Lowell’s professor leaned in and offered, “Lowell, what do you want? I’ll cover yours.”

“Well now you have a choice!” the bartender replied flamboyantly. At this point Lowell leaned in and whispered that he was going to the restroom. I was on my own.

The grey haired bartender began the tour of red wine choices. He described each one with poetry and enthusiasm. This one was mild and dry, this one full-bodied and rich. I tried to interrupt with a quick choice. Sure, that one, that sounds great. Thank you.

I was so self-conscious.

The bartender grabbed a stemmed glass and flew it through the air. He placed it on the table and poured the fluid red generosity into it. I thanked him sincerely and walked down the line, past the audience.

As I passed, the mom of our high school son’s friend spotted me. She reached out and touched me on the arm and said she’d pay for it.

I was flushed and flustered as I found my seat in the dimly lit theater. I blushed as I sipped my blushed beverage. Slowly. Hesitatingly. This generous glass of red wine.

Lowell joined me. He whispered in close, “You handled that really well.”We shared the wine. Savoring it. The lights dimmed and the play continued.

Later that night as I relived the play and the memory of the intermission– I was struck by the grace and generosity of it all. I was also amazed at my own reactions. I had been so unsettled. So self-conscious. So disconcerted.

But God is like that bartender.

He gives away Free Wine. He wants us to have the best, our favourite. He wants to lavish it on us with flare and flash. It’s grace! It’s unmerited! It’s extravagant and embarrassing and unnerving. And we’re surrounded by it. We receive it; we extend it to those around us. This is amazing grace!

“Is anyone thirsty?
Come and drink—
even if you have no money!
Come, take your choice of wine or milk—
it’s all free!
2 Why spend your money on food that does not give you strength?
Why pay for food that does you no good?
Listen to me, and you will eat what is good.
You will enjoy the finest food.

3 “Come to me with your ears wide open.
Listen, and you will find life.”

Isaiah 55:1-3

The Gifts of Loneliness

Published on by Marilyn21 Comments

The gifts of Loneliness – Fridays with Robynn

Over the years I’ve been graced with some very precious friends. This past summer I said good-bye to two of them. One is a friend with whom I share a great deal of history. We’ve been through deep suffering together. We’ve laughed a lot and cried even more over the years. The other is a newer friend but we’ve walked miles together and logged many conversations of significance.

Both are good friends. And I miss them.

Saying goodbye again reminds me of the sting of loneliness. As everyone has, I’ve endured seasons of deep loneliness. I’ve felt misunderstood, empty, alone. I used to dread loneliness. It felt dark and claustrophobic. I felt isolated. I felt sadness and pain. I hated loneliness. But lately I’ve come to recognize Loneliness as a generous benefactor. Loneliness greets me in the morning with strange and unusual mercies. She lingers in the afternoon and sits with me on the sofa and she offers me presents.

Loneliness comforts me with the reality that she cannot destroy me. I live on, even in her company. That’s reassuring—because I used to feel that she would be my undoing, my destruction, my soul’s demise. Now I know differently.

Loneliness is a type of suffering and suffering has the capacity to transform me. It produces character. It gives way to endurance. It yields to faith. Those are sweet and generous gifts.

Loneliness highlights my need. She gives me my emptiness. This is a good thing. I recognize my empty spaces and I have the opportunity to turn to God with my soul in my hands, my heart on my sleeve. This helps me see that God can really be my True Soul Friend. I can experience His Presence. Loneliness gave me that.

She gives me my humanity. She connects me to millions of others around the globe who are displaced, afraid, betrayed, abandoned. Loneliness whispers, “see you are not alone”. The pain that she brings also reminds me that I’m still alive. And I’m more fully human for having encountered her.

Loneliness shows me her ability to diminish when I take my eyes off her. She gets smaller in stature when I don’t focus or fixate on her. Conversely she grows enormous and ominous when I stare at her, when I dote on her, when I nurse her with my self-pity. She’s magical that way. That’s another of her mysterious gifts.

Perhaps the sweetest thing of all that Loneliness gives is the opportunity to receive random moments of connection with others as gifts in themselves. I can receive a deep conversation in the church lobby. I can enjoy a joke with a stranger in the grocery store. I can marvel at the various people God has given me –a kindly neighbor, a faithful postman, a humorous barista–and I can receive them with thanks. I don’t have to demand from them a forced friendship, a deeper commitment. I can walk away and be grateful for the moment of connection, the sacred spot of community. Loneliness gave me that.

I’ve just said goodbye, with sobs and tears, to my friend Ellen. She’s returning to India. And I’m staying on here. I’ve bid Ellen farewell and in the same space, filling the same place she leaves– Loneliness steps in. I also just said goodbye to Jill. Jill’s moving to a place I’ve never even visited. She’s going on new adventures without me. I’ve said farewell to Jill too and Loneliness swoops in. I’d rather Ellen and Jill had stayed. But I’ve learned to not resist Loneliness.

Thank you Loneliness. You’ve been almost kind to me.

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My Gift-Wrapped God

Published on by Marilyn2 Comments

English: Gift ideas for men - wrapping paper e...

My friend placed the package in front of me. It was beautiful with its white on pale blue embossed gift wrap. A ribbon was tied around the package, not just any old way but with care and artistry, strands of it separated and curled carefully with scissors to create twists and spirals around the bow. It was so pretty, I didn’t want to touch it. I wanted it to stay there, forever gracing my table with its oh so pretty perfect wrapping.

“Open it!” said my friend. “You’ll love what’s inside it”

“But it’s so pretty” I said. “I don’t want to ruin it by opening it. I just want to look at it”.

“You’ll like what’s inside more than the wrapping paper!” She said with confidence.

But still I hesitated.

When I finally opened it I realized immediately that she was right – I did love it. So much more. What was inside was useful and lovely and something I longed for but would never buy myself.

Sometimes I think I gift wrap God. I wrap Him in pretty paper with ribbon. I try to put him conveniently into a gift box, contained and concealed where I can just enjoy lovely gift wrap and the matching bow; flawless decoration with little purpose.

God. The Sovereign Lord. The Maker of the Universe. The idea is ludicrous, but I do it.

Is it my worry that I won’t like or want what is inside? That containing God is easier than wrestling with who He is and what He requires? This thought makes me swallow hard and cringe a little.

A gift that sits in its wrapping paper may look pretty but is essentially stripped of use, emptied of its power. It’s useful only as a dust catcher that on closer look isn’t that great. And when I gift wrap God that’s exactly what I do – I strip him of His character and block my ability to respond; block myself from being changed, transformed, comforted and loved.

My prayer and challenge is that I open up the package accepting the gift for what it is in all its mystery and wonder. My Gift-Wrapped God.