I could tell you this gift of prognostication came naturally, but it did not. It was developed over the years by sneaking into my mother’s bedroom and looking at the gifts before they were wrapped. Knowing what was going into the boxes before they were incased in printed paper, ribbons and bows gave me an opportunity to develop knowledge of what each item felt like when it was in the box. This greatly increased my ability to guess what was inside of packages where I did not know what was inside.
On the odd occasion when I did not get to the presents before they were wrapped, and I could not guess what was inside, I would carefully unwrap the package, take a peak, and then rewrap it with such precision that no one could tell I had ever touched it. This of course was an awful practice, I do not recommend it, but it did further develop the ability to judge what was inside. It also taught me how to wrap packages very neatly, a skill I still employ every Christmas.
I eventually give up the practice of peaking at the gifts before they were wrapped, and I have not unwrapped a present and rewrapped it since my sophomore year of high school. Part of the reason for my change in behavior was because I was convicted of how wrong my actions were, and part of it was because I became so very good at guessing what was inside, I no longer need to rely on this shameful practice. My reputation, however, still precedes me and my children will accuse me of wrong doing if there is any suspicion I may have had access to any unwrapped gifts. Sin does have its consequences.
Eventually, I even gave up the practice of guessing, though I must admit I am tempted to pick up a package and shake it from time to time. I could see how the joy of giving was robbed from the giver when I would pick up a gift, feel its weight, shake it, and guess what was inside. They would delight when I was wrong, but when I was right, they would be deflated. Watching their joy leak out like the air from a balloon which has had its knot untied and the lip released is not a good feeling. No longer wanting to steal their joy, and cause such disappointment I decided to give up guessing.
Before I did, there were of course times, even when I employed my best my efforts and skills, I could not guess what a present held. If I had not reformed my ways and I had been shaking presents and guessing what was inside, this Christmas I would have been stumped. My son Michael gave me a gift I would have never guessed in a million years.
The package Michael gave me contained a dagger which was fashioned to resemble a weapon which might have been used in Middle Earth, the mythical land from Lord of the Rings. Now, I think most men I know would tell you that a knife is always an appropriate gift. Maybe it is not always needed, but it is always wanted, and enjoyed. A smile came across my face as I removed it from the box. With anticipation, I gripped the hilt in one hand and the sheath in the other and proceeded to draw the blade from its scabbard. You can imagine how surprised I was when I could not separate the two. I made a comment about it not coming apart and with a bit of disappointment, assumed it must be more of a showpiece than an actual dagger. I thanked Michael for the piece of decorator art, but I must admit I was a bit puzzled at why he thought this was a gift I needed.
My bewilderment was offset by Michael’s excitement. He proceeded to tell me why he gave it to me. He told me it was indeed an actual a dagger, but he had found a way of bonding the blade and the sheath together so they could not be separated. He explained he had been watching me for the past two years and had witnessed occasions when I had the opportunity to retaliate for the harm done to me, but chose instead not to. He knew I had the means to do so, but did not. He likened it to having a dagger at your side and leaving it in its sheath. He said he believed it took greater strength to keep your dagger in its sheath than it does to draw it, and he wanted to give me a gift which let me know he had seen such strength in me.
Immediately my confusion turned to understanding, and what moments early seemed an impractical gift now held great value. You can imagine how humbled I was, how honored I felt and how precious this present instantly became to me.
I wish I could say my heart was always in alignment with the sentiment Michel expressed. It was not. There were times when harm was done and I wanted nothing more than justice, but, even though I am by no means perfect, by the grace of God and the empowerment by the Holy Spirit, I have been able to keep my dagger sheathed.
This ability was not born out of an exercise of strength, but in a desire to live in the Kingdom of God now, a kingdom where enemies are forgiven and blessings are given to those who curse you. To do so it has been necessary to cultivate a willingness, not to deny my desires for fairness and justice, but to acknowledge them and turn to God in trust, knowing He may be about something far bigger than I can see or understand.
There were times when I found myself wanting to pull the dagger from its sheath. When this feeling would come over me, I would cry out to God and ask for help in trusting Him.
Scriptures like Psalm 27, which begins with the words, “The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid?” and ends with the hopeful declaration, “I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord” became the place I would turn to reorient my heart to the reality God could be trusted and would provide the help I needed to keep the blade in its scabbard.
While my emotions may have been bidding me to take out the blade, I knew in my gut, exercising this kind of trust and choosing to wait on what God might be doing was the only way to experience the fullness of life which is available to us.
This life is something I have been growing into over the past two years. I did not start out where I am now, and I am quite certain I have not yet arrived where I will one day be, but having said this, there is something deeply meaningful in being presented with a gift which gives evidence those closest to you can recognize who you are becoming.
Despite the gift guessing skill I developed in my youth, I had no way to discern the contents of this package by its size, shape, weight or any amount of shaking. In truth, even if I could have detected the box contained a dagger, I would not have had any realization of what was really being given to me. I was being told by my son he could recognize the source of my identity and strength, and a willingness to turn to in trust to the One who can not only help, but rescue.
Of all the things I have longed to impart to my son, these make up my deepest desires and hopes. Knowing he has seen them not only gives meaning to the gift, it also makes the journey of the past two years that much more precious, for the fruit it is producing is some of the sweetest I have ever tasted. I am indeed seeing the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
It was a very good Christmas!
