Lets be clear.  This ain’t no “Gift of the Magi.”

Neither the O. Henry story, nor the account of the Wise Men in Bethlehem.

I’m not on that level.

No. This is another kind of story.

This love story began before I knew myself

And it is a lopsided love.

You claimed me for Your own.
I give you a pittance of reverence.

You protect me both from outward harm and the person in the mirror.

I gift You with obedience only when I’ve run my ship aground trying to steer it my way.

You touched my heart to be able to love.

I give You my tears when I’m hurt, and my heart after I’ve smashed it on the ground.

You’ve blessed my mind to not lose it completely

And my cries to You are lifted when I remember You’re always there.

My gift of praise is given through Your gift of a little alabaster box of talent.

And seems inadequate to express my gratitude, my pursuit of You, my goal.

Which is to be wise like the Magi. To recognize where You are all around me. And to worship.

Oh, God.