A Surprise Gift For Mother
Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>
radiated throughout our parents' home. The smells of roasted turkey,
Southern-baked ham and homemade bread hung in the air. Tables and chairs
were set up everywhere to accommodate toddlers, teenagers, parents and
grandparents. Every room was lavishly decorated. No family member had ever
missed Christmas Day with our parents.
26, and this was our first Christmas without him. Mother was doing her best
to be the gracious hostess, but I could tell this was especially hard for
her. I felt a catch in my throat, and again I wondered if I should give her
my planned Christmas gift, or if it had become inappropriate in my father's
absence.
painted of each of my parents. I'd planned to give them as Christmas gifts.
This would be a surprise for everyone, as I had not studied art or tried
serious painting. Yet there had been an undeniable urge that pushed me
relentlessly to do this. The portraits did look like them, but I was still
unsure of my painting skill. While painting one day, I was surprised by a
doorbell ring. Quickly putting all my painting materials out of sight, I
opened the door. To my astonishment, my father ambled in alone, never
before having visited me without my mother.
we had before you decided to leave me for another man!" I hadn't been
married long. Also, I was the only girl and the baby of the family.
his Christmas surprise. Yet something urged me to share this moment with
him. After swearing him to secrecy, I insisted he keep his eyes closed
until I had the portraits set on easels. "Okay, Daddy. Now you can look!"
them. Then he withdrew to eye them at a distance. I tried to control my
stomach flip-flops. Finally, with a tear escaping down one cheek, he
mumbled, "I don't believe it. The eyes are so real that they follow you
everywhere - and look how beautiful your mother is. Will you let me have
them framed?"
the next day at the frame shop. Several weeks passed. Then one night in
November the phone rang, and a cold chill numbed my body. I picked up the
receiver to hear my husband, a doctor, say, "I'm in the emergency room.
Your father has had a stroke. It's bad, but he is still alive."
hospital the day before he died. I slipped my hand in his and
asked, "Do you know who I am, Daddy?"
daughter." He died the next day, and it seemed all joy was drained from the
lives of my mother and me. I finally remembered to call about the portrait
framing and thanked
God my father had gotten a chance to see the pictures before he died. I was
surprised when the shopkeeper told me my father had visited the shop, paid
for the framing and had them gift-wrapped. In our grief, I had no longer
planned to give the portraits to my mother.
assembled on Christmas Day - making an effort to be cheerful. As I looked
into my mother's sad eyes and unsmiling face, I decided to give her Daddy's
and my gift. As she stripped the paper from the box, I saw her heart wasn't
in it. There was a small card inside attached to the pictures.
demeanor changed. She bounced out of her chair, handed the card to me and
commissioned my brothers to hang the paintings facing each other over the
fireplace. She stepped back and looked for a long while.
said, "I knew Daddy would be with us on Christmas Day!"
Our daughter reminded me why I am so blessed.
I'll be looking at you always - Daddy."
It was a bad morning. But then many Sunday mornings were. And it was all because the Jacksons were a Christian family. Does that seem strange? Well, for the non-Christian family most Sunday mornings are great -- the one morning when one does not have to think about responsibilities, about work, about schedules.
But for the Christian family it's altogether different. Although our normal "work" responsibilities are not pressing us, there are those other responsibilities -- getting oneself and one's family ready for church can serve as an example. So it was on this particular Sunday Harry and his ten-year-old son, Curt, ended up arguing about going to church.
Young Curt started it: "I don't feel like going to church today."
Harry tried to cajole him, then to threaten him, but finally he realized that the best thing to do was to ask what the problem was.
Curt explained in one word: "B-o-r-i-n-g!"
Now that might have been sufficient explanation for some, but it was not for Harry.
"What do you mean? We have lots of variety in our church. Different types of hymns and choruses. Different kinds of special music. And our minister often changes his style of preaching. I can't see where you have any reason for complaint."
Curt slumped down further in the chair. "I still say it's boring."
Harry decided to try a different approach. "Well, maybe the trouble isn't with the church. Maybe the trouble is with you."
Curt straightened up from his sprawled position: "Something wrong with me? There's nothing wrong with me!"
"Oh?" said his father. "I'm a bit surprised that you think that you are perfect. Especially after..."
"Don't remind me about last night," Curt interrupted. "That wasn't my fault!"
"Well," said his father, "Let's forget about that for now. Tell me, why do you think we go to church week after week?"
Curt thought for a minute and then said, "If you're like grandpa, you go to catch up on your sleep." His father felt that that remark needed a comeback: "Grandpa is real old. He can't help it if he falls asleep at church."
"Maybe he's bored too but he's too polite to mention it," Curt replied.
His father decided to ignore that, and pressed his son for a better answer. Without too much hesitation, Curt said: "I guess most people come to hear the minister preach."
"Well, it's true that we should come for that. And, by the way, you should be listening to what the minister or your Sunday School teacher is saying."
"Oh, I listen with both ears." His father was delighted, until Curt went on: "One ear to take it all in, and the other to let it back out."
Harry decided that this was just another example of his son's perverted sense of humor. (Certainly he didn't inherit that from his side of the family.) "You still haven't found the right answer as to why we should go to church."
"I heard mother talking last week about Mrs. Lawrence's new suit. It almost sounded as though some might go just to see who has new clothes."
"That's certainly not the right answer! But it may apply to some people. Someone once said, 'Some people go to church to close their eyes while others go to eye the clothes.'" Harry chuckled at his own sense of humor, but Curt didn't join in.
"Hey," Curt said, "I know another reason why some go. To spend time with their friends."
"That's not a bad answer, Curt. We should certainly make friends with others from our church. And we'll undoubtedly find that the best friends we can have are the friends we make in church." A sad look spread over Curt's face. "Yeah, I still miss Homer. We used to go to Sunday School together all the time."
"I can understand that you miss him. He was a real good friend. And a good influence on you as well."
"Hey, I bet you're going to say that we go to church to hear the Word of God."
Harry's face brightened. "I'm glad you mentioned that. It's very important that we hear what the Bible has to say to us. And we should make sure we are really listening when the minister reads from the Word of God. But we can read the Bible for ourselves at home."
Suddenly an inspiration hit Curt: "Hey, I know! It's the offering -- when we give our money for God's work. We can't do that at home."
"Well, that is important. If we didn't do that, the church would have to close its doors. And we must never forget that giving our offering is meant to be an act of worship."
Hearing this remark, Curt's face really brightened. "Hey! Now I've got it! You just gave me the clue. Worship! That's why we go to church!"
A smile radiated across his father's face. "That's right, son. And we need to remember that every Sunday. We go above all to worship God -- to show that we love him, and to thank him for all the wonderful things he does for us."
Curt thought for a moment and then he said: "But, Dad, us kids are only there for the first few minutes of the worship service."
"That's right," his father said. "And just because of that you really need to concentrate on worshipping God in those few minutes."
"But, Dad, that's hard to do!"
"Actually, Curt, worship is one of the easiest things for us to do. And also one of the hardest."
"One of the easiest? And also one of the hardest? That sounds dumb!"
"I mean just what I said. It's one of the easiest, because, if we really think about what Jesus has done for us, we can hardly help worshipping him and telling him how much we love him."
"So it's easy."
"Yes, but at the same time, it's also very hard, because to worship God in the deepest sense we have to concentrate all our powers on really loving God. After all, Jesus said that we are to worship God in Spirit and in truth. We have to make sure that what we claim we are doing is what we really mean to do -- that's what is meant by 'in truth'. And also we must make sure we are allowing God's Holy Spirit to guide our spirit in what we are doing. That's what 'in spirit' means."
Curt seemed to be thinking this over. And then he said: "Yeah! And didn't Jesus say that we are to love God with all our heart and soul and strength and other stuff? Hey, I guess that means with everything we've got."
"Exactly. And that isn't easy."
"So I guess worshipping God at church every Sunday is pretty important?"
"That's right, Curt. In fact, it may well be the most important thing we do all week long."
"Wow!" said Curt. "I never thought about that."
His father felt that he had made his point. "Unfortunately a lot of Christians never have thought too much about it. If they did, they'd never find church boring. When we think of who God is -- how great and glorious -- and that he is so very desirous for each on of us to worship him -- why then worship becomes exciting!"
After stepping out the door of church on the road we need to have only one feeling. I have just worshipped my Creator and Savior! Remember…the audience is ONE!
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