On Wrappings

the trimmings left scattered after a gift wrapping marathon. Those funny stick on bows? a tradition in John's family when he was growing up...he brought them back this year with a vengeance and the kids loved sticking them on every package!

When John was a graduate student we lived far from family. Resources were tight. The Christmas gifts we sent home were meager, but we wanted our parents and siblings to know we really cared, that we thought about them with each penny we had spent.

So I wrapped the gifts beautifully.

I made the paper, using fabric, an ironing board and some brown butcher paper. Satin ribbon (found cheap at an outlet shop) was tied with sprigs of berries and special love notes. I was proud of the presentation, sure that when my family opened the mailman's parcel, they would take in a breath and remember us far away from them. The first impression of the things inside the packages would be so profound that the meagerness of what was within would be made less, well, meager.

Other kinds of wrappings have been important to me. Birthday packages wrapped in perfectly colored paper, with confetti or tinsel or something that sparkles setting a tone of excitement for the opener; with a gift tucked inside that I thought about endlessly or, less often, made by hand. Satin ribbons, coordinated papers and note cards. All these things are part of the gift, at least they are to me.

This year things have been so different. The kids have done the wrapping. John, who knows that "the package" is a vital part of my gifting experience bought his own bows and trimming. Where I usually make sure all paper is of a coordinating patter and color, this year the old paper was found and used, along with the new-and the two did not go together. One Sunday evening the house was a frenzy of scissors, tape, paper and ribbon...in multiple rooms of the house things of value; things thought through and carefully selected, were being wrapped up in one way or another.

And I thought about my own wrapping. How I try to present what is inside of me by how I look on the outside. Even if the insides don't add up to a wealth of value I try to present it all with bows, or bracelets or just the right lip gloss.

And I thought about the wrappings of the baby whose birthday we were anticipating. The simple wrappings He came in. And how He was magnificent. And how He never worried or cared about the things that we wrap ourselves up in.

His presentation was authentic. Perfect. Pure and purely wonderful. The beauty of His teachings, the power of His presence was more than any wrapping could have made Him.

So as the gifts were wrapped and left in their places under the Christmas tree, I thought about how I could become one who wasn't worried so about the wrapping. One who would see beyond it, or through it, to the value of what is inside. Not just what is inside a package or present, but what is inside a person. No matter their wrapping (or mine, for that matter) I want to see the majesty and beauty of what lies beneath the wrappings.