And His gift is bountiful, And what a difference between our sin and God’s generous gift of forgiveness. For this one man, Adam, brought death to many through his sin. But this other man, Jesus Christ, brought forgiveness to many through God’s bountiful gift. (Rom. 5:15 nlt)

For the last few weeks there has been a picture in my heart and mind. I’ve been asking God what it means because, you see, it’s a chair. It’s not just any chair; it is my grandmother’s chair. When I was a little girl, she would sit in this chair and read her Bible. My earliest memories see her there, day after day, with her Bible open on her lap, reading, praying, and sometimes sharing the Word with me, there beside her.

It was an old chair, with a low comfortable seat, kind of wingback, and a fleshy rose color. You’d think it was pretty ugly if you looked at it with today’s modern eyes. It was never reupholstered because it is in good condition, and because I couldn’t bear to change it. I have Grandma’s chair now. It sits in the corner of the room of our home that we call our office. Sometimes I stop in the doorway of the room, and just pause and look at the chair. It is very rare that I sit in the chair. Sometimes the cat will curl up for a nap in the chair, but he has other spots he prefers more. Mostly the chair is empty, except for my memories.

When I think back over the Christmas’ that I have seen, I remember some special ones and especially, some of the gifts I received. The very first Christmas I remember was in Hutchinson, KS, tromping through the snow on Christmas Eve with my 6’5 Cousin Jim and my younger sister, Lori, to search for Santa. Can you believe it? We just missed Santa because when we returned the gifts were there, but he had left!

Later the Christmas’ in the Pacific Northwest were large and noisy with 17 of us cousins, all accompanying aunts and uncles, and whomever else we dragged in gathering in one home. One year my dad signaled me to come over. He said to me, "Dez, sorry I didn’t wrap this. Every girl should have one." He pulled out a small pocketknife that he had purchased just for me. Oh, was that a precious treasure for me! It meant the whole world to me. Something from my dad, and it was just for me.

Other special gifts ranged from a lighted make-up mirror to a Miss Piggy Watch. You may wonder, "Why on earth would a make-up mirror be special?" I grew up with five sisters and three brothers, and we were not allowed to loiter in either of the two bathrooms. Dressing, makeup, hair all had to be done so as not to tie up the bathrooms. So we all had good mirrors in our bedrooms so we could get beautiful, hence my joy at the lighted mirror! My family knows that I have been an ardent Miss Piggy fan since her rise to stardom, and I still get teased about it but am quite pleased at her continuing fame.

One really unique gift that I will never forget came last Christmas. At that time, I was engaged to be married and we were celebrating our first holiday season together. My then-to-be husband and I were still in the email/funny cards/romantic letter stage, and I had written to him about the foundation we were building for our lives together. We were doing the right things, preparing the foundation, using the right mortar, had chosen the only Cornerstone, and using the bricks of faith, loyalty, etc. This first holiday together was the usual sorting out of which family, what time, and where. After the long Christmas Day was over, Brad whispered to me that he had a special gift to give me when we were alone.

Finally, the end of the long day came and we arrived back at my apartment. He pulled out a gift that was about the size of a shoebox. When he handed it to me, it was very, very heavy. It was nicely wrapped, but I definitely couldn’t figure out what it could be. First I opened the card. It made me cry. Beautifully written, it spoke of how much he looked forward to our life together in God and how much he loved me. As I carefully began to unwrap the box on my lap, I became more and more puzzled. At last I uncovered the gift.

It was a brick. A real brick. A red brick. Then I realized its significance. It represented what we were and would be building. Today it sits on the fireplace of our new home and reminds us of what we are building together: Our life together, our life as one in Christ, indeed, our life in eternity.

The chair, too, was a gift. My grandmother gave me many precious gifts. She instilled in me a deep hunger for God, a faith and a love for Him that continues to grow to this day. Grandma taught me to give and then give more. Reading was vital to her, and she began teaching me when I was four. Actually, I only remember ever owning three dolls. I thought that they were boring, and I was always reading.

Other gifts that my grandmother gave me from that chair were time, patience, instruction in the faith, Scripture, how to write, how to pray, how to love even when you have been treated badly. She was the single greatest influence in my life. Sitting in that chair, she touched a big world, faithfully giving of herself and her money to help ministries that still exist today. Grandma taught me how to be a lady, manners, diction, and even built a sense of calling into me by always letting me know how special I was and how greatly God was going to use me. Beside that chair, I began to become that woman I am today.

The gifts that came via the chair to me were not wrapped in shiny paper with tinsel ribbons and placed under a tree. The gift that God has given us were not delivered via a sleigh or even covered live on CNN from a sterile delivery room with state-of-the-art equipment. No, the greatest gift of all was simply delivered more than 2,000 years ago. The simplicity of His gift was presented to us with great devotion, amazing mercy, and overwhelming love. The depth, richness, and eternal joy of the God’s gift is beyond our comprehension. Yet God gives us the privilege of receiving His innumerable gifts every moment of our lives.

As we come to this Christmas time, burdened with worry about what to give whom, not having enough to give any, where to go, what to buy, how to survive, what we have lost whether it be someone beloved, or something we cherished, we only need to remember the simplicity of the Gift. His Gift, His Son.

So come, sit in the chair, Grandma’s chair. Rest and just receive, His Gift.

Copyright 2005 by Desiree L.M. Pheister

Desirée L.M. Pheister is a member of Eastside Foursquare Church. She is a newlywed, mother of a teenager, a grandmother of three, and an administrative assistant at a medical research center. You may reach her at: marrion8955@yahoo.com