All this talk about presents is getting me contemplative about why we give them. Sunday school told me that the giver is one who gets the blessing. Or was it the receiver? All this rushing, spending, stressing. Wracking your brain- what did you give last year? Then madly attempting to outdo yourself. To what end? To attain that coveted item only to have it sit, neglected on the counter or collecting dust in a box under the bed.

 What has communicated the most meaning to me? Many things. Except what comes to my mind is not a list of items, but rather experiences with others. Not to be unwrapped, but to be savored over a period of time. The offer to share a meal for a birthday gift. The ridealong companion that happily joins me as I drive around all day attacking a long to do list. The caring soul who enters into my messy apartment and asks to sit with me while I process and cry, warm tears seeping into the shoulder of her sweater. The hospital visit I make while sitting at the bed of a sick friend, offering nothing but a warm hand to hold as she hobbles down the hall, a closed mouth, and open ear. I see encouragement in her eyes.

There is a common characteristic among these occurences; a thread weaving them into something lasting and rich: the gift of presence. Never has someone given me something more worthwhile. The glow of posessions loses its lustre. The closeness of another's warmth lasts long after their departure, for it spreads to the most inner place of me, the place that matters, inspiring me to offer the same warmth.

 

It is for this reason that I believe that God did more than offer a Savior when He sent His only Jesus son to this earth. He knew it too. Because it wouldn't have been enough to send even the greatest, newest, shiniest present to His people. Even if they begged Him for it. He gave, freely and wholeheartedly, what the human soul needed but didn't know:

His presence.

The presence of an average, ordinary-looking, dusty-footed, hard-working man. Deity sharing our skin, facing temptation, feeling defeat. He spoke the tongue of the ones He wanted to woo, shoulder to shoulder walking, obeying the purpose assigned to Him by His Father. He was that companion, not mighty conqueror. He was attentive, not absent. He was that warm hand extended to the marginalized, not a political hero. And though he was asked for many things that would fix or solve, He saw deeper into the heart. His gaze penetrated through even the purest intentions to offer something so life-altering and misunderstood. A meal, a walk, a touch. A gift that would transform. A gift that would be passed down by story-telling and changed lives. A gift that He offers to me today, though in different packaging, as I traverse the bumpy roads of this small, imperfect life. My discouragement, joy, triumph, and work load is shared. The warmth of His presence changes me.

Emmanuel is our God with us. Open up and receive the gift of presence.