The Gift

One afternoon in June my husband came home to find a full scale water war going on in our front yard. Unfortunately, he was still on the phone discussing a medical condition with someone when he got out of the car. My hubby grabbed a water gun (bad move: weapon in hand = game on to children) then attempted to retreat while maintaining some degree of professionalism. I managed to snap these pictures before I went and reined K in. Oh, the warped priorities of a blogger...

Because the man on the other end of the phone was D., the father of friends of ours, the snapshot made its way back to him. The intent of passing on the photos was a humorous apology for the chaos he may have heard on the other end of the line.

A few weeks later while in our town visiting his children and grandchildren, D. stopped by the hospital to introduce himself to my husband. It was their first time to meet face to face. He handed my husband a blue envelope and thanked him for his assistance in navigating through a new cancer diagnosis and options for treatment throughout the country.

My husband opened the envelope to find a card with a beautiful note of thanks and a gift certificate for an all-expense paid trip for our family to Disney World. In his note he mentioned that the combination of his renewed perspective while facing a difficult diagnosis and the picture of what my husband sacrifices in order to be available for patients (and in this man's case non-patients) motivated him to give a beautiful gift--TIME together as a family, away from the pager.

When my husband came home that night and handed me the envelope I was floored. Tearfully overwhelmed, our first inclination was to refuse the gift. This is too much. We can't accept this. Doesn't he realize this is just what my husband does? Aren't there people more deserving or more in need of this than us?

The answer is Yes. It is exceedingly generous. There are others more needy and deserving. But he gave it to us, as a rational adult capable of making decisions. This is what he wanted to do. It brought D. joy to give so extravagantly. Who are we to rob him of his joy?

The gift was already paid for. Our refusal to take it would not have restored the sacrifice D. made. So, we are going this week. The timing worked out that D. is actually in the hospital in another state right now recovering from a major surgery, so it is with mixed feelings that we depart. He is fighting a nasty cancer while we are heading to the happiest place on Earth...but we will go and enjoy our trip and send him photos and recaps so he can share in the joy that he has provided.

We would not be taking this trip without the nudge. He planned perks and accommodations that I would have been too fiscally conservative to book. His homemade gift certificate will always be a treasure because I think of him sitting at his computer planning each aspect with joy. We will value this trip infinitely more as a result of the humility it incites each time I think about the beauty of D.'s gift.

As I have pondered these things in my heart for the last couple of months I have found myself wondering why the gift of salvation doesn't leave me in this place. I am not an angel. I have made my share of mistakes. God is constantly at work pointing out areas of my heart that need some attention. But, truthfully, because my testimony is not a dramatic 'plucked from the pit of deep worldly sin' kind of story, I don't always fall flat on my face in appreciation for the unwarranted gift of salvation I have received.

This gift (and its accompanying feelings of humility, gratefulness and overwhelming gratitude) has reminded me that as generous as it is, this is 4 days at an amusement park. My Lord has given me eternity in heaven.

As my children stand in awe this week of the man-made wonder and joy of Disney, I hope to weave in this story of D. and his unbelievable gift...and the symbolism of another eternal gift that also comes disproportionate to our work and with a price that has already been paid...whether or not we choose to accept it.