When you have nothing else to give…

It’s Christmas time!

In fact, I’m so late in (so obviously) pointing out this fact that “Christmas time” is almost over. Just five more days, people. I can barely believe it. I am not yet a parent, but I am positive if I was one I would be one of those that saved all their shopping for…oh, approximately the next four days. Fortunately, I do not have to worry about that yet. (When I do though, don’t you worry…my online shopping skills will be completely perfected so this novice-shopping-hater can maintain her Christmas spirit whilst dodging the Christmas shoppers with Grinch driving skills and Ebenezer attitudes.)

This year just so happens to be a strange year for us. We have been functioning off one income over here in this newlywed home and it has been challenging, to say the least. So as Christmas time has approached we have negotiated, renegotiated, and then negotiated again how we would go about handling this season of giving. 

I am a giver. I love giving gifts. I am the child who sat in her parents living room for years, in charge of passing out the presents, and ensured that everyone received their presents (and opened them) before she did. Some call it enjoying the moment, others have called it annoying, I just call it savoring the flavor. I love watching others open gifts, especially when I spent time and energy pouring into what something would so overwhelmingly scream, “I ADORE YOU. YOU ARE SO SPECIAL TO ME.” So I would wait. I would stack presents behind me so my brother and sister were less likely to make me open mine. I just wanted to watch. 

But as the season has encroached and we crunched the numbers we knew that it would be impossible. Short of winning the lottery or a Christmas miracle we were not going to be able to give the gifts the way we wanted to.

The boy’s family isn’t as big into gifts as my family is. I mean this is a big deal people. You give gifts! They matter! (They have never been all that mattered, but they have mattered.) So I have struggled. I love splurging on my favorites. I love the sight of sparkling packages under the tree. I love perfectly crisp corners of papers covered in trees and stars and snowmen folded just “so.” I love the surprised (and sometimes not so surprised) faces. I especially love experiential gifts…they happen to be my favorite. Giving someone an ice skating experience date and I get to enjoy them…mmm, my hearts skips a beat, does a jig, and warms at the thought.

But what do you do when you have nothing to give? I mean…we just have ourselves to bring. We will be entering multiple Christmas gathering over the next week…with just our smiling faces.

I have received gifts and have been utterly unable to give back. It has been miserable…

…but not in the ways you might expect.

As I have received gifts and have had only a hug and a smooch to return…it has made me painfully aware of how much I like to put stock in my ability to do or give to another person to be of value. 

The reason for Christmas…the birth of a Savior. Not the beginning of a story, but the continuation of a love story that began centuries before. A baby born in a stinky, unsanitary barn…placed in a manger. The most humble beginnings one could possibly imagine. The opposite of the conditions fit for a king. He had everything to give and nothing to gain…but our salvation. 

As I have received these tokens of affection they have reminded me of the huge and mighty gift that little baby being celebrated gives. And I, the one with no gifts to bring, continually try to bring something, anything. Anything that might make it seem right.

But that’s the thing with this story. It’s all wrong. 

Yet we still win. We get life. We get freedom. We receive grace. Mercy. Love. Overwhelming. Never-ending. Never failing or running short. No. We get it all…and yet there is nothing we have that could ever deserve such a gift. 

This Christmas…my prayer for you is that you recognize not just the overwhelming gift of our Savior…but the gifts of presence. Not presents. But the presence of friends and family…those who come willing and ready to give of themselves. To laugh and listen and love from the deepest parts of their hearts. The ones who welcome you into the coziest parts of their embrace and hold you a second longer than you might actually need. Those whose smiles say more than just, “hello,” but say, “wow, it is a blessing to my soul to see you.” 

Merry Christmas, friends.