He offers....

In December a couple of years ago, ok more like 7 or 8, I was busy Christmas shopping for my family. We often had this deal where we would all go shopping together and show each other stuff that we wanted and then the buyers would have some ideas. Kinda takes out the element of surprise but it's really quite practical and my family is nothing if not practical. So shopping over, we tried to keep things secret but we aren't as good at secret keeping as we are at being practical. I'm not anyway.

Needless to say, I saw the gift that my brother bought me. It was wrapped so I couldn't see its specifics but I knew what it was. Time travel with me for a second, remember the era of those trippy, shiny-like pictures of lions and tigers you could get. The ones where when you looked at them from different angles, the colors changed. They almost looked metallic and they were usually in gold hues. They were quite gaudy and rather ugly (my apologies if you liked them or still have them hanging up!)

Anyway, I saw the wrapped present my brother bought. About 11" x 14", flat, kinda looked like it could be a frame of some sort. And I saw the gaudy picture store in the mall. And I put two and two together and knew what his present was and was even more sure I didn't like it.

What was he thinking? Didn't he know me at all? He'd been my brother for almost 20 years, was I that hard to buy for? Really? Man I hated this gift exchange thing. Boys don't know how to buy presents!

Wow, the Christmas spirit was oozing out of me! NOT!

I told my sister what I thought about his gift. She, being the level headed one (well, in this story anyway) said, "He won't have bought one of those pictures. Don't worry, you'll like what he bought."

"No I won't! I hate those stupid pictures. What a waste of 10 bucks!"

Days went by and Christmas came. We all ended up at my parent's house and the time for the unveiling of gifts came. I don't remember for sure but I'm guessing my attitude was less than stellar that Christmas eve. As I psyched myself up to act delighted when I tore off the wrapping I was met with surprise.

When the paper came off, I found out my sister was right. The picture wasn't a gaudy, color-changing tiger, it was a really cool, matted, sepia picture of daisies (my favorite flowers) that would match perfectly with the living room decor in my house.

My brother did know me. Better than I knew him obviously.

You might ask, "Where did that memory come from? It's not even close to Christmas shopping time yet!" Interestingly enough, what triggered it had nothing to do with Christmas.

I was reading Acts 3, the story of Peter and John healing the lame man at the gate called Beautiful.

“The man looked at them expectantly, hoping that they would give him something. “If you are expecting silver or gold,” Peter said to him, “I have neither, but what I have I will certainly give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk!”” (Phillips translation)

God was speaking to me about expectation. How often do I not take what God is offering because all I can see is what He’s not offering. He’s not offering me a trip around the world, or a new car, or a boyfriend, or a high paying job. I know that much because if He was I’d sure jump on that offer!

But the beggar, who was looking for silver or gold had the good fortune of hearing the choice, plain as day. Nothing or healing, I don’t have money but I can offer you new legs. When he heard the choice, he took the healing.

Of course he did! What idiot would pass up being able to walk again!

What if he hadn’t been willing to listen when Peter and John said, “Look straight at us.” Would he still have been healed? He’d still be sitting at the gate.

Do I listen for what God wants to offer me? Or do I have my selective hearing aid on? If exactly what I want at this exact moment is not being offered, I hear nothing. I tune out in fact. What if God wants to offer me healing and all I want is a new job so I’m not even willing to listen to His offer.

Every good and perfect gift comes from Him. What am I leaving “unopened” because the wrapping isn’t what I’m looking for?

Just like my conclusion in the memory about my brother’s gift…
God does know me. Better than I know him obviously.