Saturday, December 28, 2013

Re-gifting


“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.
 

In James 1 it says: 2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,  3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  5 If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.  6 But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.  7 That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord;  8 he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.  9 The brother in humble circumstances ought to take pride in his high position.  10 But the one who is rich should take pride in his low position, because he will pass away like a wild flower.  11 For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed. In the same way, the rich man will fade away even while he goes about his business.  12 Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.    16 Don't be deceived, my dear brothers.  17 Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  18 He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.

 
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.

4 comments:

  1. oh, wow. Heather, this is wonderfully written. thanks *so* much for sharing this piece of your story.

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  2. I lived a different life with our mother. A very different one. My life with a woman who was years sober, happily married. Could give me anything I wanted. But she didn't. She made and still makes me appreciate a dollar. And how that dollar is earned. I don't know who she was then. But I think we both got the same allison training. Same values and morals. She's a good woman. Strong. A no nonsense kind of gal. Love that crazy lady. She made two good daughters. Different lives, same results.

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    1. I couldn't agree more. I'm so grateful every day for her and for you. Love you sis.

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