SHE DANCED IN with a “Hap-
Subconsciously, I attempted to “repay”
what she had given me in my gift to
py Birthday” upon her lips and a
her. And in that, I had devalued her
brown paper package on her hands.
gift.
I cringed ever so slightly at the re-
It’s heart-wrenching how we
membrance of her birthday...a month
before. Her gift still sat silently on my humans laden our souls with self-im-
posed debt. We take the Greatest Gift
dresser. She came grinning my way,
bestowed upon us by the Initial Giver
doing a wiggle only she can pull off,
and transform it into subconscious
extending the gift my way, and excit-
edly urging me to open it. The mental debt. We strive. We measure our
guilt began to climax as images of my worth to Him, our freedom by Him
gift to her flashed through my mind; I according to our broken attempts at
good deeds. We continue to strive in
pushed it away as I gently drew apart
attempts to fill our unspoken, endless
teal tissue paper.
void. Our strivings drain us, leaving
A small panic attack occurred
us more confused and barren than
within my heart as I stared down at
ever before. We forget that “all our
the gift. Oh no, expensive and punc-
righteous acts are as filthy rags” in His
tual. She’s totally out-gifted me on all
levels. I thought of her gift sitting back sight. (Is. 64:6)
And we devalue The Gift.
at my house—small, quaint, nothing
too over the top, but not nearly as
If only we could allow
nice (or so I thought) as the one she
The Giver to re-member our
had given me. Nearest store outlet
calculations ran through my head as I broken pieces. If only we could
rest in the wholeness, the
beamed and thanked her for the beau-
security of The Gift. In true
tiful gift; near desperate, I knew that
rest, we would put behind us
some way I had to better my gift to
the dysfunctional striving and
her –and the faster, the better.
rather learn to BE in Him. Not
A few days later, I sent a “new
Do, but BE in Christ
and improved” version of my gift her
.
way. It was done and complete.
This is New Covenant living, an
But in my disarray, I had de-
valued her gift. In the madness of my eccentric, passionate living opposed
to our carnal selves. In it, our gifts
comparisons and insecurities, I for-
become enough because we know
got. I lost the meaning of “gift”. My
strivings in which to better my gift to that in Him WE ARE ENOUGH. Our
gifts move beyond mere materialistic
her turned her “gift” into my “debt”.
WORDS BY WHITNEY SCHROCK // PHOTOS BY BY KARINA WEAVER