It was the best gift I could get at that moment.

When I went stumbling out onto the porch, nearly falling over it, the long box laid on the floor, it looked like…

Was it?

Who…?

And so I forgot my front porch errand entirely and hauled the box inside, ripped it open, eager, looking first for a note.

But the color hit my eye like a rainbow promise. And so apt that figure, my long-held symbol of that relationship of storm and raintears and  sun and thunder rumbles that God’s love and grace nonetheless streamed through.

The older son, the one Dad dubbed “Radar,” for how well he psyched out us others, sometimes anticipating thoughts and desires near the point of uncanny… Could he have detected, even from that distance, the yawning need for such gift, for right then?

He might have, this transplanted wild-grown child watered by the grace of God, now matured into the wonder of man- and fatherhood that could knock you flat with surprise blooms like this gift, this good gift, like he is.

Then next morning, came the best gift I could get for that moment:

…the card to encourage a doubtful mother, the book to encourage her soul to grow. He spoke uncertainty, not knowing its author or all its written content. But its title and direction and the giving said everything that mattered: “I get it. I understand where you’re aiming and know it’s a trek. I hope this is manna for the journey.”

I think it is.

I know the thought behind it is. And this mate of my soul behind the thought, that’s the real gift.

.

And then, come late afternoon, the best gift for that hour in time: the long phone call, and somewhere near the end, “Mom, take a look at my Twitter. You’re in there.”

(shown on the previous post, but shown here again for those who won’t have gone there…)

Yes, we do go way back, over rocky roads leading to the hodge-podge family, and then beyond. Two against the world in days shortly after that shot. But not alone. Two with a Third, mightier than the world. Reminder of the way He blessed and held and guided us through, the wonders He did, the cord of three strands He made with us… Gift after wondrous gift.

The real earthly gift in the picture was the child, the real gift of the photo posting and phone call was the wonder of the man and father he’s become.

And the great huge gift in all of these things in the past two days: the God Who’s Giver of all good things.

.

Sometimes you get gifts that outshine others. For me, they contain three things:

~something of the person him/herself, in the thought, in the medium of giving

~some obvious evidence of how the giver knows your heart

~something expressive of the bond between you.

… because the most real and best gift is the giver himself.

And then, the most blessed extra bonus thrown in would be the clear God-incidence of the timing. 

Because then we get to see the real Giver behind it all.

What an incredible weekend! Three perfect gifts a row. Just what I needed (and more), just when I really needed it!

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above,

and comes down from the Father of lights…

James 1:17

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