Good Things Come in Little Packages

As I walk through the stores and begin to see all of the Christmas ornaments, the trees, the nativity scenes (which sadly are scarce this year), and begin to hear the sounds of Christmas floating through the air, I can't help but be taken back many, many years to the time I spent in children's choir. The choir was named “Beginning Angels” (a name I'm not sure we ever lived up to during practices) and our director was Mrs. Betty Bounds, a very sweet woman of God. Every Christmas, we would wrap up as presents and sing a little jingle that went something like this:

“Good things come in little packages, little packages, yes sire'.

Good things come in little packages just like me!

I'm easy to wrap, just take a scrap,

of paper and a teeny-tiny bow, oh!

I'm easy to hide, just look inside,

won't be very long until you know, oh, oh, oh,

Good things come in little packages, little packages, yes sire'.

Good things come in little packages underneath the tree.”

I know there are more lyrics, but I cannot recall them. And for once in my life the internet has failed me miserably, as I cannot locate them anywhere! But as I hear this sweet little jingle in my head (and reminisce on the embarrassing pictures and videos of a chubby-faced little preschooler with a very boy-like haircut, wrapped in a box looking something like a Christmas present, swaying back and forth with sealed lips while the music plays in the background...yes, me), I can't help but to think of all the times I have heard in the past, and will hear this Christmas season, about that “big gift!” Every kiddo seems to have their list made months in advance, filled with all kinds of books, toys, clothes, electronics, candy, etc., but there always seems to be that one giant gift that every child wants. It may not be the same across the board, but it's always on the top of the list and in the forefront of the child's mind, for months and months. But why? What is it about a big present? Is it the competition, and the “need” to have a bigger package under the tree than everyone else? Is it a feeling of superiority? Or maybe it temporarily fills a void, and makes one feel important. Whatever the reason, I am not really sure.

As I begin to think of some of my favorite things, many of them come in little packages. Though they are not physically big, they seem to have so much more meaning at the time, in spite of their tiny stature. So, I've put together a little list of just a few of the “little packages” that have made me smile throughout the recent years. It looks something like this:

1. A beautiful engagement ring, in a tiny black box.
2. A doll-house model of a grand piano, because my Me-Mom was going to get me one no matter what, even if it wasn't the real thing!
3. A 4x6 picture album, containing a picture from each of my birthdays, with the letters and notes I had written to my Granny.
4. A box filled with what I thought was just newspaper, only to get to the bottom to find a large plastic grasshopper...thank you, Joseph :)
5. A note from a student about the difference I had made in her life, decorated with candy canes and stars, because that's all she could afford to get Mrs. Baker for Christmas.
6. A single red rose
7. A box of hot cocoa and peppermint sticks
8. A tiny glass music box, in the shape of a piano.
9. A “thinking of you card” that showed up anonymously in the mail, with a $400 gift card inside...when we were hurting financially and we thought no-one knew.
10. A note from a friend, passed in the hall between classes (and sometimes during class).

The list could continue on and on... As I think about all the things in life that seem to have had the most significance to me, they have all come in little packages. And as Christmas approaches, I think of the greatest gift of all, my Jesus. He didn't come to save the world as a highfalutin king. He didn't ride in on chariots in a big parade and celebration. He wasn't born to royalty and didn't sit on a golden throne, with a golden scepter in His hand, wearing purple silk robes. He came in a little package. He came as a baby, a teeny-tiny helpless little life. He came in a stable, among horses and cattle and pretty stinky surroundings. He came to a frightened teenage girl, and her trembling husband-to-be. I can look through my list, and I can be thankful for the earthly things that have come in little packages, but at the top of my list would have to be the precious gift of life; a life that came with the purpose of dying, for you and for me. A tiny little bundle that would one day willingly hang on a cross so that I wouldn't have to, and neither would you. A life that, though sinless, would take upon Himself my sin, and yours. A tiny little package God gave us that very first Christmas. Why a tiny package? Why a baby? Why a stable? I think maybe, just maybe, God was trying to teach us something. It's not about the size of the package, the price tag in the store, the amount of paper it takes to wrap it, the length of time it takes to save up for it, or the amount of joyous chaos and excitement it creates when it's opened. It's about the heart behind it, the heart of the giver. It's about the purpose of the package, the motive behind the gift. It's about the eternal effects, not the happiness of the moment. It's about Jesus!

Does this make my list void? Does the realization of Jesus being the only important gift diminish the excitement I have for the other “little packages” I have been given? Absolutely not! It is because of my Jesus that I can find joy in the small things! It is because of my relationship with Jesus that my heart is able to see the abundance I have, when others may say I have nothing. It is because of the number one gift on my list, the teeny-tiny little baby born over two-thousand years ago, that I can turn around and praise Him for everything that comes in line underneath.

With that said, I would like to end by adding one more “little package” to my list. You see, God doesn't have to bless us with things, he chooses to when His children listen to and heed His voice. I am so excited that over 20 years later, God is allowing me to sing, “Good things come in little packages,” about one more thing...

God chose two and half years ago to bless us with our beautiful son, Nathanael. Back in July, God chose to take away a precious little one, who is now in His arms in Heaven. But, God, in His goodness, has chosen yet once again to give us the precious gift of life! Though Nate has a sibling up in heaven, he is going to be a big brother here on earth! We have a “baby in the tummy,” as Nate would tell you (and I'm surprised hasn't slipped out over the past few weeks!) Our “little package” is due to join our family the end of May/beginning of June, next year. We have had the blessing of seeing a heart beating steady and strong for the past couple of weeks, and an inch-long little miracle, measuring perfectly. And today we experienced the joy of hearing a very strong little heart beating extremely fast!

So, you see....good things still come in little packages :)

When God Speaks

Two weeks ago, I was driving my neighbor's kiddos to school, as I do two or three mornings a week.  Everyone was in an overly cheery mood, maybe because it was a Friday.  Nate was goofy, Natalee was singing with the radio, Isaac was carrying on silly conversations, and Josh was super talkative.  We pulled into the parking lot and dropped them off at the front door.  Nate said, "Goodbye," as I sent them off with, "Have a great Friday!"  We pulled out of the parking lot, turned back onto Hwy 36, and as I approached the 50mph school speed limit sign, I reached toward the dial to turn the radio back up.

          "...blessed be the name of the Lord,
           blessed be Your glorious name.
           You give and take away,
           you give and take away..." 

Immediately, my mind flashed back.  It was mid-June.  Nate and I had run some errands, as we normally do on Fridays.  We had just turned into our neighborhood, and he was being rather goofy, so I asked him to sing with me.  I reached toward the dial to turn the radio up, and began singing:

          "Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed be your name.
           Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed be your glorious name.
           You give and take away, you give and take away.
           My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be your name."

As I belted out the words I have sung thousands of times before, everything went silent.  No longer could I hear the radio or my own voice. No longer did I hear the hum of the air conditioner or the slight grinding noise as I pushed the brakes.  No longer did I feel Nate kicking the back of my seat or hear his giggling and trying to sing from the backseat.  Everything went silent around me, except for one very clear audible voice.
        
          "Will you still bless My name?"

"Whoa!  I'm sorry, what?"  "Will you still bless My name?  If I take away, will you still bless My name?"  "Ummmm, God, what exactly are you asking me?"  "I said, if I take away, will you still bless My name?"  "Ok, God.  You can't take away my husband." "No, you can have your husband."  "Ok, God.  I love my little man with everything in me.  Please, you can't have him."  "No, you can keep Nate."  Then my stomach began to churn.  I thought of the teeny tiny life that was growing inside of me.  We had been trying to our second child for almost a year, and nothing was happening.  Just five short weeks before, we had found out we were pregnant.  We were so filled with surprise and joy.  "No, God!  No!  You finally gave us another child!  You can't take our baby away!   You can't!"  "Yes, Jennifer.  Yes, I can.  This baby is mine.  It is not yours to have.  I need to teach you something.  I know you love this baby, and you have wanted this baby for a long time. But I have wanted to have you longer....to have you fully, and I don't have that.  This precious little life...it is mine.  You will not have this baby."

Tears were streaming down my face and my vision was so clouded I had to pull the car over.  The music continued:

          "You give and take away, you give and take away.
          My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be your name."

I was SO angry!  How could God tell me He was going to take my baby?  I couldn't hear the words to the song.  My heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be your name???  Uh, no!  Not a chance!

I had all evening to think about this, and with each passing minute, my bitterness grew and my heart hardened.  God could not do this to me!  Our first doctor appointment wasn't for five more weeks.  And for the next five weeks, I argued with God...arguments filled with pain and tears.  I knew that God was going to do what He wanted, I just didn't like His plan.  As we got ready, five weeks later, to enter the doctor's office, I knew.  I had spent the last five weeks in denial.  We began moving the furniture into what would be the nursery, we bought a bassinet, and I even bought fabric that I was going to use to begin making crib bedding.  This was my baby, and I was going to have it!  I knew, deep inside though, that I was terribly wrong.  As as I heard the doctor's words, it became a painful reality.  We left the doctor's office, and my heart was filled with anger and hatred.  I had convinced myself that my God really wouldn't do something like this to me.  I spent the next week letting my children's minister know I would no longer be teaching my Sunday School class, and letting the pastor know that Bobby and I could no longer be small group leaders.  If God was going to do this to me, then I could throw it right back...I just wouldn't do for Him anymore.

After a few weeks of "healing" (ok, more like a few weeks of heart-hardening), I turned the radio in the car back to the Christian station.  I had decided pretty soon after our doctor appointment that I didn't want another "God speaking" incident, so I just tuned out His music.  When I turned the radio back, another song came on that I have heard and sung countless times.  Though I had heard the words before, it was as if God slowed down the song so much this time, that each word had minutes to sink into my heart:

          "What if my greatest disappointments, or the aching of this life,
           is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy...

Then it was as if pieces of the shell began to crack, and then crumble, around my heart.  And as God chipped away, one small piece at a time, I began to realize something.  God didn't want to take my baby away!  God didn't want to hurt me, or make me angry!  God wanted ME!  He wanted me to thirst for Him with a thirst I had never felt before.  He wanted me to realize that He is the only thing that will satisfy.  And in order to teach me that lesson, in order to reveal such a great thirst to me, He had to take away.  He had to bring me to my knees, to my lowest point, and help me understand that though I may have nothing else, though everything else may vanish, though He take away, I should have such a thirst for Him that my heart CHOOSES to bless His name!
 
          "What if trials of this life,
          the pain, the storms, the hardest times,
          are your mercies in disguise."

Mercies in disguise...it all made sense now.  It had to hurt, it had to be painful.  But through all of that, God was being merciful to me.  God was drawing me closer to Himself, teaching me that He, alone, is sovereign.  Looking through the eyes of pain, hatred, and bitterness all I could see was a horrible selfish God.  But as God opened my eyes and wiped all the hatred and bitterness away, I began to see a God who was merciful and loving...yes, even through the trials and painful storms.  And in reality, it was that love and mercy that took me through the storm in the first place.

Suddenly my surroundings changed.  I was once again driving toward that 50 mph school speed limit sign on Hwy 36.  What had seemed like an eternity was really only a split second flashback.  The music continued:

          "...my heart will choose to say,
          Lord, blessed be your name.

This was the first time I had heard this song since my encounter with God back in June, and I had a choice to make:  I could turn off the radio, argue with God once again and tell Him he couldn't take away from me, or I could remember the painful struggle, the heartache and the trial, and praise God for the work He had performed in my heart.

So, I turned up the radio and belted out (completely off key, with sobbing between the words):

          "You give and take away,
           You give and take away.
           My heart will CHOOSE to say,
           Lord, BLESSED BE YOUR NAME!!!!!"

From the backseat, in the sweetest little two-year-old voice, I heard, "Mommy, you ok?"  And with tears of joy flowing down my cheeks, and an honesty that had never before flowed from my heart, I said, "Yes, Nate.  Mommy's ok!"