For many years I needed to do my own thing. Even when I trusted another, I felt it critical to my self definition to strike out on my own, setting a fresh and different agenda, and learning from my own mistakes. I can see the pattern repeating itself with my children. In many ways, my heart lifts at the sight, yet I wonder if they are doomed to yet again repeat the same mistakes for similar reasons with familiar pain.
Two people who are close to me have birthdays today. One happens to be my Dad. As we both have soften with age we find that our dialogue continues to shift. Gone is the competition, the god of sarcasm is no longer present, and the words are now almost always filled with compassion. Perhaps we have discovered what is really important, I do not know. I do believe that we have found the truths of vulnerability, of human weakness, and of aloneness. With that we began to see ourselves for who we were and what we could be with God’s gifts.
Wisdom from all sources comes in strange packages. At times, it is wrapped in a cloth of age and kindness; left on our doorsteps without a real sense of what was behind its development. On other occasions, the gift comes with stained with sweat and tears. Both are valuable within their own right, but the latter is one that I treasure. I know when someone shares wisdom from their pain that it would have been mine tomorrow, if not for this gift.
I understand that gifts come with obligations. True gifts come with a compassionate plea to share it with someone, anyone in need.
God has given us a special gift. I reopened the package with my name today; taking off the blood stained paper, tear laden string, and age old forms. On the surface I found compassion, mercy, and total acceptance. Inside I found just one thing; Jesus at Calvary.
“Intelligent children listen to their parents; foolish children do their own things.” (Proverbs 13.1)
