On the tenth day of Christmas my True Love gave to me, ten recycled bows, nine ranks of scholars, eight modes of worship, seven crazy feelings, six proclamations, five broken dreams, four upset parents, three gifts from wisemen, two speaking prophets, and a great big herd of bleating, dumb sheep.
Yeah, you read that right. Ten recycled bows. I never realized that my family recycled things (before recycling was vogue, I mean). Every year at Christmas, my Grandmother (known to us as Rea-Rea), would have two garbage bags. One was for paper and trash; the other for bows. I seldom remember anyone in our family buying bows. They can be reused several years, you know. And if they come apart? Then they get taken apart and made into festive little loops. And buying boxes? Who ever heard of such a thing? Everyone in the Guyton clan knew that if you opened a box and it said "Ritz crackers" or "Jello" that it had different contents inside. I was shocked the first time I discovered others did not do such things.
Recycling...I've thought a lot about recycling this week. Not things, per se, but love. Over 2,000 years ago I was given the greatest gift that could ever be given. "For God so LOVED the world, that he GAVE his one and only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." ~ John 3:16. Belief is the condition required for life, but that gift was given freely, with no strings attached. At all. Yet so many times I want people to conform to my silly modes of church or worship or my minuscule ideas before I bother sharing with them God's love. I'm not recycling. How warped is that?
I still struggle somewhat with seeing someone through the eyes of Christ. He came to heal the broken, not the whole. I want things to be totally intact and neatly packaged before I handle them. God took the worst of society and had lunch with them. Could you imagine how we would react if our pastor openly had lunch with a gothic prostitute? Or a convicted criminal started hanging out with us? But these are the very ones Christ came to reach.
My prayer the rest of this Christmas season (and next year, as well) is that I'll do a much better job of recycling Christ's love. Like Christmas bows, it's an on-going, never-ending thing.
Yeah, you read that right. Ten recycled bows. I never realized that my family recycled things (before recycling was vogue, I mean). Every year at Christmas, my Grandmother (known to us as Rea-Rea), would have two garbage bags. One was for paper and trash; the other for bows. I seldom remember anyone in our family buying bows. They can be reused several years, you know. And if they come apart? Then they get taken apart and made into festive little loops. And buying boxes? Who ever heard of such a thing? Everyone in the Guyton clan knew that if you opened a box and it said "Ritz crackers" or "Jello" that it had different contents inside. I was shocked the first time I discovered others did not do such things.
Recycling...I've thought a lot about recycling this week. Not things, per se, but love. Over 2,000 years ago I was given the greatest gift that could ever be given. "For God so LOVED the world, that he GAVE his one and only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." ~ John 3:16. Belief is the condition required for life, but that gift was given freely, with no strings attached. At all. Yet so many times I want people to conform to my silly modes of church or worship or my minuscule ideas before I bother sharing with them God's love. I'm not recycling. How warped is that?
I still struggle somewhat with seeing someone through the eyes of Christ. He came to heal the broken, not the whole. I want things to be totally intact and neatly packaged before I handle them. God took the worst of society and had lunch with them. Could you imagine how we would react if our pastor openly had lunch with a gothic prostitute? Or a convicted criminal started hanging out with us? But these are the very ones Christ came to reach.
My prayer the rest of this Christmas season (and next year, as well) is that I'll do a much better job of recycling Christ's love. Like Christmas bows, it's an on-going, never-ending thing.
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