They’re lined up like a row of boxes, each identical in size and shape. Growing from what seems an infinite line stretching back to my birth-day, a new box appears at each new sunrise. Most are wrapped in the same understated paper with a simple bow. So ordinary you’d hardly notice, just like the midnight’s rolling to twelve or the morning’s light filtering through the atmosphere. Most often I tear into a day’s box, snatching the bow off before the snooze alarm rings, and ripping paper while simultaneously brushing my teeth and putting on my shoes and throwing lunch into another box. The box sits waiting for tape to be cut while all hands are on deck eating breakfast and driving to work. Once there, and free from its adhesive bonds, there are the packing peanuts to deal with. So so many packing peanuts! I throw one at a time, then shovel handfuls, then pour as many as possible while scattering static seconds across the desk, the chair, the floor. Then the styrofoam circus must wait, as there are people and meetings and experiments that can’t. Late in the evening I invariably find myself on hands and knees still lifting airy puffs one by one into the trash, dragging the box to the recycling pile while yawning toward bedtime. Every once in a while, on a night like tonight, when it’s late in the day and late in the week and the sleep-meter is severely low, a thought flits through tired synapses: wasn’t there something IN the box? Did I miss it? Did I throw it away with the packing? And somewhere inside my spirit I hear the reply “Yes, it was My gift.”


9 thoughts on “gift

  1. Katy, I love your word picture of each day being a box, neatly lined up for us. It’s up to us what we do with the gift. Do we get lost in the packaging, or the busy-ness of picking up the mess? Or, do we purpose to live that day as the gift it is? For me, that looks like being present in each moment God gives me. I like your take on this word! 🙂

    I’m your neighbor at FMF. Nice to “meet” you. 🙂

  2. Oh, this parable stirs a longing in me as I read it! I want to search with you, through the trash and the packing, and find that precious gift, the one that was almost lost… And to find the note inside that tells us who it was from: ‘To Katy, with love from your Father. x’.

    • Ruth, you floored me with the addition of the note inside the box! Love. it. His love is certainly the best gift of all, and that we get that gift every day no matter what else is held in our “box” is such wonderful, amazing truth! Thanks for the reminder 🙂

  3. I’ve had a few days like that lately! This morning I’m enjoying the gift of not only time with Him, but time to read everyone’s beautiful words about the word gift whilst the rain patters down outside (unusual for a desert morning in June!).

    • Anita, sounds like your day is/was a wonderful gift! I too had a day like that not long ago and I was so thankful, but I’m not sure I officially recognized it as a gift from God and thanked Him. Doing that now. Thanks for the reminder and for stopping by!

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