The gentle whisper has been quite persistent in recent months. I listen, nod in agreement and in a shamefully short period of time slide right back to where I began. Still the whisper persists. I hear it in the voices of Ann, Lisa-Jo, Emily and a number of other much admired women. "Yes," my head says, but the stubborn heart refuses to be moved.
The gentle whisper increases in volume when it is filtered through the pages of scripture. I hear it in the most unlikely places. Reading through the Old Testament stories - walking through the wilderness with the Children of Israel - and it speaks so clearly I am brought to tears.
"Then Moses spoke again to Korah: 'Now listen, you Levites!. Does it seem insignificant to you that the God of Israel has chosen you from among all the community of Israel to be near Him so you can serve in the Lord's Tabernacle and stand before the people to minister to them? Korah, He has already given this special ministry to you and your fellow Levites. Are you now demanding the priesthood as well? The Lord is the one you and your followers are really revolting against! For who is Aaron that you are complaining about him?"
Here I stand again, with those Children I used to shake my head in wonder over. How often have I compared myself to others and wished I could be more like them? How many times have I looked longingly at their gifts and wished they were mine? If I look deeply into my own heart I find those same seeds of discontent and longing.
And the voice of Moses carries down through the centuries and implores me to embrace the gift I have already been given and to be content to serve in the way that the Lord has chosen for me.
It is the season of giving. A beautifully wrapped package sits under the tree with my name on it. Will I open it or will I look around at the other beautiful gifts and wish I could have them too? This gift is mine, the one He chose especially for me. It will only have value if I open it, embrace it and then give it away.
He has special gifts for each one of us - gifts that are uniquely chosen just for you by the One who knit you together in your mother's womb and wrote your story before you ever drew one breath. Every gift is of equal value - for each of us is equally loved and cherished.
linking to Emily's imperfect prose:
picture: my dear friend Mary's home all dress up for Christmas