Complementing my recent train of thought about responsibility has been the underlying awareness of the gifts I've experienced in life, both situational and personal. I've never been as thankful in my life as I have been over the last few days, and still I am humbled by the amount of seemingly unfair grace I've received. A wealthy family, a free-thinking country, a beautiful girlfriend.
I think I'm always aware of my situational blessings, regardless of whether I truly appreciate them or not. It's the personal blessings that now begin to strike a chord. For instance, God affectionately gave me a willingness to share my heart, and give advice. Yet when someone complimented this skill the first thing I did was swell with self-admiration, kindly thanking them for noticing such a great thing about me.
If God created a beautiful, unique poem and entrusted it with me. I took it, and immediately claimed it as my own. I convinced myself that I in fact wrote the poem and although I could barely understand it's significance, paraded it around, graciously accepting praise. Meanwhile, God waited. Patiently hinting throughout my life that these blessings I show-off as my own are actually gifts he gave, perhaps even with the intention of using them for his own purpose.
I think of the people in my life who have been given gifts. To communicate, to teach, to sing, to learn, and it often feels like in us he forged an incomprehensibly useful toolbox of faith-sharing potential. I wont start rebuking any praise I receive with "Actually, thank God", but my mind has been stirred, and I'll try to always remember the craftsman who built the instruments I use daily.
I think I'm always aware of my situational blessings, regardless of whether I truly appreciate them or not. It's the personal blessings that now begin to strike a chord. For instance, God affectionately gave me a willingness to share my heart, and give advice. Yet when someone complimented this skill the first thing I did was swell with self-admiration, kindly thanking them for noticing such a great thing about me.
If God created a beautiful, unique poem and entrusted it with me. I took it, and immediately claimed it as my own. I convinced myself that I in fact wrote the poem and although I could barely understand it's significance, paraded it around, graciously accepting praise. Meanwhile, God waited. Patiently hinting throughout my life that these blessings I show-off as my own are actually gifts he gave, perhaps even with the intention of using them for his own purpose.
I think of the people in my life who have been given gifts. To communicate, to teach, to sing, to learn, and it often feels like in us he forged an incomprehensibly useful toolbox of faith-sharing potential. I wont start rebuking any praise I receive with "Actually, thank God", but my mind has been stirred, and I'll try to always remember the craftsman who built the instruments I use daily.
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