JellyCats

 

Some of you may remember my failed Christmas gifts:

Sentimental fancy jewelry for a 3^rd and 7^th grader?

Well, I made up for it yesterday when I somewhat randomly

Sent them JellyCats.

 

What are JellyCats, you ask?

They are stuffed animals.

I have no idea what makes them different than other stuffed animals,

But the girls love them

And hold them in high esteem

And so I went to The Amazon and sent two JellyCat foxes their way.

 

Their mom wrote yesterday to tell me that

She had two very excited girls with new JellyCats!

 

I smiled.

 

Then I asked:

Did they get the gift tags that went with them?

 

They didn’t.

 

To me, it was the most important part of the gift:

The literal reminder of what the gifts were meant to show—

“You are both loved so very much.”

 

To me, that’s what a gift is:

A tangible reminder of an intangible love.

 

We show love by showing up.

We show love by saying it.

We show love by listening.

We show love by taking out the trash.

We show love in the little things,

Day in and day out,

But sometimes we need to show love in an extra way,

And so we offer simple gifts,

Ones meant to shine light in times of darkness,

Ones meant to lift spirits in times of confusion,

Ones meant to bring a smile when it seems that tears are all that will come,

Ones meant to ground a person in reality when it seems that the world is slipping away.

 

I know one day the girls will come to appreciate their Christmas jewelry.

But for right now, in the bleak midwinter of January,

The girls needed to know through JellyCats

That they are so very loved.

 

Friends:

The hurts of this world are palpable.

May we offer soothing balms of love this week

Through jewelry or JellyCats or

Showing up or sending a text or

Making a phone call or sending flowers or

Doing someone’s lunch duty or

Listening when we ask, “How are you?”

Or…

 

Amen.

Try Again. Later.

 

Sometimes things come easily. 

Sometimes they don’t. 

Saturday was an example of the don’t’s

And it was very frustrating. 

 

I was trying to make a tin art quilt square pattern that I had made before. 

I cut the one-inch strips,

Trimmed them into one-inch squares, 

Cut the squares into triangles, 

And then started piecing together the design.

 

For some reason, it would not make! 

Every time I placed a piece, I knocked another piece out of line. 

I worked steadily for about 45 minutes.

I even took off my glasses so that I could focus more carefully!

Finally, I got the design to where I liked it,

And I was getting ready to tape it down,

When suddenly my example square fell over,

Hitting my working square, 

And knocking all the pieces out of place. 

Ugh!

 

I tried to tweak the mess and get the pieces back in line,

But each time I adjusted one piece,

Something else messed up.

After about 15 more minutes,

A lot of frustrated noises,

Walking away a few times,

And giving up hope,

I finally just dumped the whole thing and decided to start again.

Later.

 

…

 

Sometimes things come easily. 

Sometimes they don’t. 

But thankfully, when they don’t, 

We can always try again 

And hope that the second time, 

Or third, or fourth, 

We will have success. 

 

So in the times when things don’t come easily, 

Hang in there, friends. 

Keep going. 

Keep trying. 

Keep doing your best, 

Even when your best means surrendering in defeat 

And trying again later.

 

Amen.