“Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like
shifting shadows.” James 1:17
Sometimes we can look at our lives and think, “What do I
have to give? My past? It’s a mess. My present?
Well, it certainly doesn’t look anything like I had planned. How can
anything good come of this?” Or maybe we
say, “What qualifications do I have? What in my life could possibly be used by
God? There’s nothing special about me. How can I make a difference?” It seems
like a logical conclusion. But sometimes we need to shift our perspective. Sometimes
the things we see as valueless or even undesirable are actually the very thing
God will transform into a gift.
It was my third Christmas and our family had been turned
upside down. Mom and Dad were divorced
and my mom’s teenage sister Cheryl was living with us to help her out. We were
living half way around the world in Hawaii far from Mom’s family in
Connecticut. The divorce and all the
drama that came with it hit my mom hard after her own childhood of abuse,
neglect and addiction. A broken, impoverished family was exactly what she did
not want to give her daughter for Christmas.
Pictures of her at that time show a 24 year old woman
beaten up by life but bravely putting on a smile for her little girl. The most ‘telling’ picture of that time shows
a disheveled preschooler leaning backwards from her mom’s lap as they get ready
to swing high into the air on the playground swing set at Immanuel Lutheran
Preschool in Wailuku. My upside down smile revealed my giddiness about having
mom ‘at school’ with me. Mom’s brilliant
smile doesn’t reveal the despair that her emaciated body does; her collar bone
and ribs protruded from beneath her bright red halter dress while her fragile
arms and legs pumped with a strength that defied her body’s obvious decay.
That December in Hawaii my mom was working multiple
waitressing jobs and always made sure the money from her and Dad went into my
belly first and the mortgage was always paid.
Sometimes she would open her front door to find care packages of diapers
and food left by Saint Nicholas’ elves in the neighborhood. It would be safe to
say that calling things ‘tight’ was an understatement.
So what’s a broke, divorced twenty-four year waitress to
do if she wants to give her curly haired wild child a memorable Christmas? Enter my Aunt Cheryl. The two sisters had grown up poor with an
abusive alcoholic father and a waitress mother who worked herself to the bone
to take care of her four children. They didn’t have anything growing up but
poverty has its own unusual gifts to provide- creativity and ‘out of the box’
thinking. And they had a sewing machine.
Mom set to work on turning scraps of fabric into a 6 foot
tall patchwork raggedy kitty. He had a
pink triangle face and probably wasn’t really 6 feet tall but he was taller
than me and I loved watching my mom work her magic on that sewing machine. Yep, I saw him before Christmas. Sneaky Mom told me she was making him for my
buddy/nemesis Scotty who lived up the street.
To say I was bummed doesn’t even come close to the disappointment I
felt. I was mad.
“How come Scotty
gets the kitty?” I asked resentfully.
“It’s for Christmas,” she replied without skipping a beat
or a stitch. I wanted to storm out of the room but my desire to pet the kitty
doll won out. I thought he was the most
beautiful kitty ever. See, Scotty had everything I didn’t. Nice house, lots of
toys and a daddy who stayed at his house every night. I pet the kitty wistfully.
Mom pumped her foot on the sewing machine pedal and smiled a secret smile.
Christmas Eve arrived and I was asleep in my bed. Mr.
Kitty was wrapped and placed behind the tree. There wasn’t much else hidden
beneath the gaudy tinsel and fat light bulb laden pine but Mom and Aunt Cheryl
weren’t done tapping into their deep reserves of divine inspiration. They set to work wrapping dozens of presents
in cheap Christmas paper and newspaper funnies until the living room looked
like Scarlet O’Hara’s dress exploded from underneath the Christmas tree.
Christmas morning dawned and squeals of delight erupted
from me every time I tore open another present. There were dozens of them! And they
were all for me. A toaster that looked just like the one in our cabinet! Coffee
cups too! Pots and pans to match the ones in the kitchen! It was thrilling. I
couldn’t wait to tear apart more paper and make a huge mess without getting
into trouble for it. This Christmas thing was a blast. And the gifts kept
coming until we ran out of household items.
Mom and Cheryl had succeeded in wrapping up almost the entire contents
of the kitchen. And I was thrilled.
Then in a scene straight from the movie, “A Christmas
Story” my mom asked, “What’s that behind the tree?” And there he was- Mr.
Kitty! And he was mine! All mine! Too bad Scotty Killam! My mom made this giant
kitty for me! It was….the best Christmas ever.
See, the truth is that God is the Master Re-gifter. He
takes the mundane, the trivial, and the broken and re-gifts it to the world. In
some ways we and our lives are not unlike the rejected toys on the Island of
Misfit Toys. Where others would look at our brokenness and reject our mess, God
says, “this- I can work with.” God says, “Every good and perfect gift comes
from me, Your Father of Lights and I will gift you to the world. You are my
first fruits that I chose and my truth will shine through you.” He bestows
value on us through the very trials we often believe devalue or disqualify us.
When we say yes to Him in our mess then we can expect a transformation. He will
take the mundane toaster, the mismatched coffee cups, and even the frayed fabric
scraps of our life and transform them into a good and perfect gift.
