Season of Preparation:Day Four God’s Grace

 

What do you give the person who has everything?

The often-heard lament seems to play on repeat in our commercialized, financially overextended culture. If you want something, no need to wait. There’s a line of credit for it. And with the ease of “just get them a gift card”, the art of giving gifts seems to be falling by the wayside (I might add so does the art of receiving them, but that’s a post for another time).

Of course, with three young grandsons, I also know that the gifts they receive may be of secondary interest to the boxes that held the much thought-out bestowals.

I think we do that with Christmas itself,  too. We get caught up in the trappings of Christmas—decorations, food, and festivities—and miss the real gift.

We’re like a toddler who doesn’t notice the present we’ve received because we think the box is the good part.

In my time of reflection this morning, I thought about God’s gift of grace and wondered if I am only “playing with the box”, instead of truly taking possession of the gift.

Grace, the unmerited favor, giving me what I don’t deserve and couldn’t possibly earn.

What do you give the person who has everything?

Before the fall of man in the Garden of Eden, God had no need to offer us the gift of grace. And after the fall, he had no obligation.

And yet, he wrapped his unfathomable grace in the form of a newborn baby and placed him on a bed of straw in the humblest of beginnings on a cold, dark night.

Have you ever received a gift bag stuffed with so much tissue paper you weren’t sure how many gifts were actually in it? You’re stuck with that awkward moment where you don’t know if you should keep digging through the fluff as though you expected more, or stopping as though you didn’t. Always under the watchful and expectant eyes of the giver.

God’s gift to us is like that (and he doesn’t mind if we keep digging).

The defeat of my enemies, the rescue of my heart, the healing of my wounds, the wisdom that guides me, the comfort in my sorrows, the peace in my despair, the forgiveness of my sins, and the promise of my eternity—that is the gift that was placed in the manger that first Christmas night.

But what if I already had all those things? Would God’s grace hold the same meaning, the same value?

Without tears on earth, would I long for the day when there will be no more tears? Without out my aging body, would I desire the day when I receive a resurrected body free from pain and sickness? Without the suffering caused by living in a fallen world, would I yearn for the day when the lion and the lamb will lie down together?

His gift of grace is the gift through which his redeeming love flows.

Would I appreciate God’s gift of grace if I were a person “who already has everything”?

As I spend this season in preparation, I choose to see the things I’m tempted to complain about as the very things I need to fully grasp the immeasurable worth of God’s gift of grace.