Elmo

I came across a Christmas list I wrote when I was seven years old.

At the top of a list was a little sister and “more time” (I was an odd seven-year-old).

I don’t remember if I got anything on that list. I know for sure that I did not get a little sister and I believe time has marched forward at the same rate ever since.

But I do remember one Christmas when I got exactly what I wanted.

I was four and there was nothing I wanted more than a stuffed Elmo.

I thought about nothing else. I asked for nothing else. I talked about nothing else.

I woke up hours before my parents (who wisely put a chair in front of their door, barring me from getting them up at 5a). I went back to my room and waited for them to wake up so I could open presents.

I tore through every gift searching for the one I’d been waiting for all year.

Then, there he was. Elmo. I thought my little heart would burst with joy.

I know, I know. Children often dream of the perfect gift only to relegate it to a closet shelf a couple days later.

Not I.

I loved that Elmo. He was my constant companion. He went with me everywhere. He went to school with me. He joined us at dinner. I snuggled him every night.

That was more than thirty years ago.

I still have him.

His red fur is matted and worn and he's missing an eye.

Here’s the point.

Gifts are meant to be enjoyed. They’re not meant to be put up on a shelf unused and unhandled.

But we do that, don’t we?

We recognize – and even appreciate – a precious gift. But we don’t want to break it. We don’t want to ruin it. We want to preserve its pristine condition.

That Elmo is more precious to me today than it was the Christmas morning I got him – not despite his wear and tear but because of it. He carries the marks of a little girl that loved him.

I don’t know the gifts you’ve received. I don’t know the relationships God has provided you. I don’t know the talents and abilities He has given you. I know don’t the resources, the opportunities, the dreams you have.

I do know they don’t belong on a shelf.

Don’t waste a single gift. Love every one. Enjoy every one. Use every one until the fur is matted down and it’s missing an eye.

Heroes

I was introduced to the writing of C.S. Lewis when I was a junior in college. His work has since profoundly influenced my faith in Christ, perhaps more so than anyone else.

Mere Christianity captured my mind and invited me to think reasonably about what I believe. The Chronicles of Narnia captured my heart and drew me to a deeper love for Christ. The Weight of Glory compelled me to consider the responsibility I have to others in encouraging their spiritual maturity. The Screwtape Letters unveiled the subtly and horror of spiritual warfare. A Grief Observed taught me to pray raw and honest prayers to a God who can handle my brokenness and even my anger and disappointment at a broken world.

Lewis is, undoubtedly, one of my heroes in the faith.

I never got to meet Lewis. He passed away decades before I was born.

But, I got to meet another hero of mine while I was in England last month.

You've probably never heard of him.

His name is Walter Hooper.

Hooper was Lewis’s secretary the last year of his life.

The publishing company that put out Lewis’ books was planning to pull them from print, as was, at the time, common practice when an author passed away. Hooper, a native of North Carolina, resolved to stay in England and dedicated himself to keeping the legacy of Lewis alive. He fought to keep Lewis’ writing in print and he succeeded. He also compiled and published thousands of letters written by Lewis.

It’s not a stretch to suggest that if we didn’t have Hooper, we wouldn’t have Lewis. That is, he would not be as widely known, read, or regarded as he is today.

It’s tempting to envy how God has gifted another. It’s tempting to become discontent in how God has gifted us. It’s tempting to succumb to the notion that those who receive recognition and acclamation for their influence, like Lewis, are the ones who are really making a difference in the world.

But, we need those able to stand on the stage and those able to build the stage.

For the Christian community to function as it was intended, we need everyone pursuing a unified purpose by way of their distinct giftedness. We are not to compete with one another, but complement one another.

Lewis used his gifts, and Hooper used his. God is still using Lewis to change hearts and minds. God used Hooper to make such change possible.

That’s why Walter Hooper is also, though for different reasons, my hero and why it was such an honor to meet him. I owe him a debt of gratitude for humbly using his gifts so that another could use theirs.

The Object of Gratitude

Gratitude has been getting a lot of press lately.

Psychologists present research demonstrating the many mental and emotional benefits of practicing gratitude. Motivational speakers and productivity gurus talk about the value of incorporating gratitude into their daily routines. Publishing companies are releasing gratitude journals sprinkled with inspirational quotes.

But, there’s something missing.

The object of gratitude.

Gratitude implies that a gift has been received. If a gift was received, then there must have been a giver.

Do you see what’s been done? They’ve made gratitude about the receiver rather than about the giver. The expression of gratitude, as a response to the giver, has been turned into the emotion of gratitude, to further profit the receiver.

Thursday, we celebrate Thanksgiving.

As we sit down to share a meal with our families and friends, let’s remember to whom we give thanks. Let’s remember that every gift has a giver.

Let’s remember that there is none worthier of our gratitude than the God who gave us life and breath, provision and protection, justice and order, forgiveness and grace, love and relationship.

Thanksgiving, after all, is about giving thanks. So, this year, let’s do that.

Let’s give thanks to God – the Giver of every good and perfect gift.