Good gifts?

For many years I have been under concerted pressure to welcome the pitter patter of tiny little puppy’s paws into our family. Despite pressure from my wife and kids, I’ve managed to stand strong and defend my ‘no dogs’ position resolutely.

They have tried all sorts of strategies to melt, what they perceived to be my hard heart, such as slipping ‘puppy books’ in my direction during bed time stories, playing endlessly on ‘virtual pets’ computer games and adoring anything on four legs that may walk within a 100 mile radius. There were moments when I almost succumbed, but I managed to get through it by forcing myself to think of things like ‘poop scooping’ from an inverted carrier bag or endless white hairs on my black trousers.

It felt like I had finally won and the topic seemed to go off our family radar – that was until we moved to our new home in Malvern. We experienced a terrific welcome from our neighbours with hot and cold drinks in abundance and the offer of assistance. We were also quickly invited around their home in celebration of something that had happened that morning. When my family found out the reason of their celebration, their little eyes lit up and they suddenly seemed uninterested in unpacking boxes and getting their rooms in order as they focussed their attention of 8 little puppies which had just been born.

Over the following weeks, between the achievements of emptying another Pickford’s box, multiple sets of eyes would peer over our neighbour’s wall as these little floppy eared pups got used to scampering around their garden. I was dragged into their home on a number of occasions and had one of these wriggling fluffy things thrust in my arms numerous times. I knew what was going on and refused to concede any acknowledgment of cuteness. One by one, the ever growing cocker spaniels were taken away by delighted new owners as my kids enviously watched on. There seemed to be an abundance of waiting families keen to give these ‘allegedly’ cute fur balls a home.

After doing a quick headcount of the number of puppies who had been collected, I concluded that all the puppies were now spoken for and thought of them busily chewing their new owner’s furniture and laying smelly little deposits. Assuming I was on safe ground, I enquired of my neighbour whether they had all gone. ‘All except one’ was the surprise answer. My kid’s eyes lit up like torches as they heard this remaining puppy was struggling to find a family. Thinking on my feet in front of an expectant gathered throng, I began to say that we would be interested if we weren’t required to go away so often. That’s been the ace card to outmanoeuvre all argumentation in the past and I was expecting it to be the catalyst for a change of subject. ‘We’ll look after her every time you go away’ was the response that came back. The ground felt very shaky as I struggled to think of a next move.

 The pressure mounted that evening in our home and our kids were so well behaved as they pulled out all the stops to break me into submission. Once they had gone to bed my wife and I talked seriously about it – listing all the pros and the poos and after sleeping over it for the night, pondering over it the following day, discussing it further that night and then amazingly concluding that if we were to ever go for it then now would be the time. I discretely popped around to my neighbours home without the kids knowing my movements and struck the deal. We would become the new family for little ‘Poppy’ in just three days time. We agreed we would announce it to the kids the following evening.

24 hours had passed and the evening meal dishes had been washed, the kids had been showered and were enjoying a bed time hot chocolate treat. We all sat together and began to give our news to our kids. They were trying to assimilate what we were saying and then the penny dropped! Tears of joy began to flow and the most touching moments of gratitude poured out in full display. The overwhelming sense of amazement and delirium was tangible in the room as we realised just how special a gift this was for them. As a tear filled room, flowing in demonstrative displays of love and affection was at its peak the scripture came rushing to my thinking ‘if you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!’ (Matt 7: 11)

I’m sure that moment will rank as one of our family highlights for many years to come. I understood something of the joy that God gets from both blessing his people and seeing us blessed. I understood in a new way the power of expressing our gratitude to God as he receives the overflow of our amazement and wonder.

Thank you God that you love to bless us – you know how to give us amazingly good gifts! We are blown away by your generosity, love and grace toward us.

Cutting Edge?

It’s a familiar scene - a Sunday roast dinner is being lovingly prepared and cooked and its aroma fills the home with a sense of well being and anticipation. There are so many flavours waiting for their moment to come alive in the mouths of a very grateful audience and their simmering smell is but a small tease conspiring to get the stomach rumbling with an impatient concerto.

As my wife prohibits me from meddling in the process of cooking such a feast I am delegated a few tasks that she hopes are unlikely to have any spoiling impact on her masterful endeavours. As I set about the first of these, I straighten the table cloth and then begin to add the placemats, cutlery, condiments and drinks glasses. Task two has the artistic sounding title of ‘carving the meat’. In all honesty that is probably too elaborate a description – ‘slicing, cutting or tearing ‘may be more appropriate.

I’ve often come to this theatrical moment and felt that the shining piece of steel in my hand was inadequate for the job. I’ve watched others demonstrate how it should be done and notice the ease with which the knife glides through the succulent juicy meat (sorry veggies but this story just wouldn’t work with a ‘Quorn’ substitute). I’ve tried different knives from the kitchen drawer and all of them seem to attack it like an angry rugby scrum, leaving the strips of meat looking worse for wear. As these ‘chunks’ are served out onto the warm plates along with the perfectly cooked vegetables and fused with amazing gravy, it somehow seems to spoil an otherwise perfect looking meal.

Surely to achieve those evenly cut, aesthetically pleasing slices I would need to buy a new knife – one that is made for the job - one that will gently and graciously interact with the meat and cause it to comply willingly. After years of serving up disappointingly shaped meat because I resented paying the apparently high cost of a professional meat carving knife, I had an idea. I’d recently bought a sharpener to maintain some of my gardening tools, and like a cartoon cloud containing an illuminated light bulb above my head, the thought came to me that I should try using it on the kitchen knives.

With a bounce in my step I got straight to it, expending generous amounts of energy by quickly moving the edge of the blade against the sharpening stone. Occassionaly I would stop and inspect it visually to see if I could notice anything different before repeating the process again... and again and again.

The moment of truth was now sitting in front of me on the kitchen work-surface as a freshly cooked chicken awaited my attention. I stood in front of it, rested the knife edge gently on the seasoned skin and applied a little pressure. Incredibly the knife just cut through the white meat with such ease and perfection. What a moment of great satisfaction.

For years, I had been wishing for a different result and assumed that I needed a different tool in order to achieve it, when all along I simply needed to sharpen what was already in my hand. All too often we can assume that we’re holding inadequate resources to achieve the things we believe we’re called to do. We often either give-up or just make a poor job of it – but so often the answer is to sharpen the gifts and strengths we have. A ‘blunted’ hospitality gift needs to be sharpened. That gift of encouragement which has fallen victim to fatigue needs to find its cutting edge again. Your generosity to others needs to have its incisive impact rediscovered. Whatever we hold, we need to guard it from dulling, tiredness, poor finishing and complacency and ensure it stays very sharp and very effective.