One year I remember getting a sparse Easter basket a week after I hid them for my little kids. In it were a few bent flowers, a picture of a sunrise and black jelly beans. My daughter said that she had noticed that I did not already have one, so she fixed one up for me. I kissed her soft cheek.
"Besides, I hate black jelly
beans." Gee, thanks.
I have been known to do the rewrap and regift swap myself, so I get it. Being vegetarian, when someone gave us an electric knife for a wedding present I figured it would get more use in another home, so the next engagement that showed up decided the lucky recipient. Little did I realize how handy it might have been making cardboard forts for my Tom Sawyers and Becky Thatchers. But we made do with duct tape and
string.
Sometimes I give John what I want him to have, like a yellow dress shirt with a matching tie, or the app Find Your Friends. He smiles, and goes to the store to make his own choices.
We went to the Smart Marriages Conferences for several years running, which were directed by Diane Sollee. On the tenth anniversary the regulars like John Gray and Bill Coffin got together to gift her with something they were sure she would like:
a shopping spree and a day at the beauty spa. Anyone who knew Diane recognized that her consistent clothing preference was a black dress and no make up. She smiled politely and the next year she showed up again in black.
Gifts are a chance to do what my phone does easily: swap perspective. With the touch of a button it goes from taking a photo of the person I am looking at to taking one of me. If only I could be so facile with my frame of reference, maybe I could
see life through someone else's eyes.
The book Observing Spirit made a suggestion that caught my attention. Obeying God from a sense of duty, or when it is convenient is like giving Him black jelly beans. But if we can manage to do spiritual work as a genuine gift to God, it is as sweet as the pink and orange ones.
.
