A few days before we left for Nepal,
I was alone in our apartment amidst a packing furry.
The room was bare except for a wooden trunk with a circular
mirror propped up against it.
I grabbed my lunch and sat down in front of the mirror.
And then I just stared at myself.
I looked back at that person staring at me in the mirror,
and wondered “who am I?”.
Who am i?
As much as that statement seems like the foundation for a
cheesy hallmark movie,
It accosted me, shaking my shoulders till I just blinked back
at myself in a dazed haze.
It was like I was looking at myself for the first time,
wondering what I was made of.
can anyone say identity crisis?
I mean, I guess I could have described myself by the thin
layer on top…
Hazel eyes, brown hair, scar on my forehead.
But to stop there didn’t feel right. I wasn’t brown hair. I
wasn’t my scars.
I wasn’t my eyes, no matter how much they burned a hole in
that mirror.
Yes, those were a part of me, but it wasn’t me.
So I continued, reaching further.
I am a daughter, a sister, a wife.
Yes, but these positions were not the essence of Katie.
Neither were any credentials, which rang so shallow when I
began to name them.
Goodness gracious, had our culture so emphasized my “doing”
that somehow I took it for my “being?”
Then,
My fear and insecurities surfaced.
In fact they scared me as they rose to the top, dripping
with lies.
I fought the painful memories.
I studied my reaction.
No, no, I finally declared, while these may have shaped me,
they had no place in my very being, my very soul.
That left me puzzled.
Lord, I cried, who is this person in this body?
What am I? Who am I?
And then it came, small and strong and tender.
Katie, you are a gift.
A gift?
I recoiled, almost embarrassed.
Why, how narcissistic that I would think I was a gift to God
or to others.
I almost looked in the mirror to see if anyone else had seen
my conversation with God.
The coast was clear.
“Katie, you are a gift to me,
and I delight in you.
live as though you are a gift.
To me, and to others. “
And there it was.
So simple and lovely,
To good to be true.
And when we choose to live as a gift,
Our blooming tendrils creep their radiant ways around
others,
Fertilizing a garden that gives others the space to grow and
be gifts to the world around them.
Being a gift means presenting yourself to others in a
selfless way.
It means offering your spirit as a bouquet of roses that
freshens a room.
That says “today I’m here for YOU to serve you”.
Living as a gift to others makes us better friends,
siblings, daughters, and lovers.
As a gift I will be opened, because that’s what people do
with gifts, they open them.
As a gift, I will be
vulnerable and share my life with others.
As a gift, I will be called upon for the joys of
life,
but I will also be used as a tissue to wipe away tears or a blanket to
comfort in times of need.
And sometimes, as a gift, I will be used and taken advantage of.
But the point of being a gift is to be given.
To bless.
A gift isn't a gift if it's never fully given away to someone.
And I want to give myself away to others.
In love, in warmth, in welcomeness and in kindness.
at the end of the day, I want to look back and tell Kevin that I gave myself away to others.
that I invited our neighbors over for tea and cookies.
that I spent my day writing a manual for the aftercare home that would benefit the girls.
that I just sat and listened to a friend who shared her heartbreak.
that I took a homeless couple out for a meal,
or that I made Kevin's favorite dinner.
everyday, I want to be a gift,
because i'm realizing that's who God made me to be.
it's in our dna to give ourselves away
it is better to give, than to receive.
A gift isn't a gift if it's never fully given away to someone.
And I want to give myself away to others.
In love, in warmth, in welcomeness and in kindness.
at the end of the day, I want to look back and tell Kevin that I gave myself away to others.
that I invited our neighbors over for tea and cookies.
that I spent my day writing a manual for the aftercare home that would benefit the girls.
that I just sat and listened to a friend who shared her heartbreak.
that I took a homeless couple out for a meal,
or that I made Kevin's favorite dinner.
everyday, I want to be a gift,
because i'm realizing that's who God made me to be.
it's in our dna to give ourselves away
it is better to give, than to receive.
and that includes giving ourselves, right?
Jesus was a gift, the best gift to the world.
He lived present to everyone around him,
He gifted his healing powers, and his divine touch.
He poured out his blood, even when people took advantage of
him.
But in the end, his gift healed us all. It still heals us.
So today I’ll bury the lies that say I’m
A burden
A failure
My accomplishments
My past
Or my body
And I’ll root deep in the truth that says
I’m loved
I’m accepted
I’m adopted
I’m valued
I’m an image bearer of the king
And that I’m a gift to God and to others.
and so are you:)
and so are you:)
ohhhhh darlin, let's be gifts today, okay?
happy weekend!
love Katie
