Some people say gift cards are the pits, like the worst gift ever. You can pick one up anywhere: Target, the grocery store, even the dirty little drugstore on the corner. Some people say giving a gift card doesn’t require enough effort on the part of the giver. I, personally, think gift cards are the bomb-diggity. I love picking out exactly what I want, especially since I don’t often have the extra income to plop down at my favorite stores, no guilt attached.

That being said, my favorite gifts have most definitely not been gift cards. In no particular order, my favorite gifts have been:

1. Any painting my sister Stephanie has ever given me.

2. The necklace my sister Jenni gave me, a chain with a delicate gold disc engraved with my initial.

3. The birthday card my brother wrote me last year.

5. The bike I got for my fifth birthday. It arrived magically on our doorstep overnight. When I opened the front door in the morning, it was there, glowing in the morning light in all its Huffy perfection.

6. My engagement ring, one that I had no hand in designing or picking out or trying on, but is exactly the right one.

These are the gifts that caught me off guard or that made me cry. They are the gifts that I pause to admire day after day. They are the gifts that I savor in my memory. Some of my happiest childhood memories are tearing around my neighborhood for hours on that bike. Free as the wind.

There’s a whole other set of gifts that I’ve been given. My Father is responsible for these. As I sat down today to practice piano for church on Sunday, I thought about how grateful I was to be able to sit down and play. I’m thankful that God gave me musical ability. I’m also thankful for my love of reading and writing. I’m thankful that I can lose myself in a good book or picking out the right word.

I’m so thankful for the gifts that God has given other people. One of my favorite things is to watch people who have found their gifts and are totally immersed in them. To watch someone who is doing exactly what they are created to do, that is a thing of beauty, no matter what it is…A mother who delights in mothering. A teacher who perseveres, who delights in learning himself and passes on that love to students. A leader who uses his influence for good. An artist who shares the bigger picture with those of us stuck in our small little worlds. A woman whose quiet grace is the backbone of her family. A psychologist who passion for learning and history of hurt moves her forward to help others find healing.

I’m not talking about perfect people. And maybe these people I’m thinking of don’t feel like they have any idea of what they were created to do. I’m talking about people who are cracked and broken, busted up and hurting themselves. I’m thinking of those that have fallen flat on their faces, whose sins look just like everybody else’s. But they keep using their gifts because they love God. And they know God has the power and the mercy to make some really beautiful things using broken people.

But by far the best gifts are the gifts that God gives us. For sure, that’s our Savior, sent to us on Christmas. It’s his grace, which is boundless. It’s his forgiveness, which is bottomless. It’s his peace, which passes our understanding. It’s heaven, which knows no end. These things cannot be taken away. They are limitless and perfect.

I feel all filled up right now, humbled to the point of tears. I have so much, Lord. So much material good. So many beautiful people. So much spiritual blessing.

Lord, keep this gratefulness in my heart. Please let it overflow so that I use every gift you have given me to serve you and all of your beautiful, broken people. Father, above all, direct me to your most perfect gifts, the ones Jesus came to give me. Help me to remember that you give me exactly what I need, no matter what it looks like in my eyes. Thank you for all the people in my life that bless my life by using their unique talents. Keep them in the palm of your hand. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” (James 1:17).