Tuesday, May 20, 2014

The gifts of God are flawed



When we read theology about God and God-likenss, we read about perfection. In fact, we read terms like all knowing, all goodness, all perfection. So, if this is true, then why are God's gift's so all-flawed?

I come to this question as I remember my cat, Buttons, the cat that came as an answer to prayer. My gift from God.  It happened like this: I had transferred to a new monastery and felt lonely and homesick. I prayed I would "see" a kitty. Instead, I found a little kitten abandoned by its mother, curled up in the leaves. He was about 4 weeks old, scrawny, flea ridden, tiny, and needed someone to care for him. I was allowed to keep him. It was a true gift from God.

But this gift was not perfect. He was not the sweet, cuddly kitten I wanted. As a feral kitty, he retained his wild streak as he grew up, which he unleashed on me when I least wanted it. He was fussy about his food and easily upset if he didn’t get his way. And he used to wake me up early, really early.

One time I looked at this "gift from God" and wondered, why did my gift have to be so imperfect? If God is so perfect, why can't God's gifts be perfect too?

And then I thought, perhaps it is my concept that is flawed. Perhaps my flawed thinking comes from the human experience.  Ever ask someone for help and have them take over? Like since you asked, somehow you are deficient, and they must do it themselves. Ask, and you will be controlled.

God is not like that. When you ask God for a gift, God does not take over. God does not treat you or me like we are so deficient that we cannot handle life. Instead, God gives us what is very fallible. Because God knows, we can handle it. We can take those gifts and figure it out. God does not need to take over in our lives and treat us as idiots. God has greater respect for us than that.

So, when I remember Buttons, I remember the good as well as the difficult. I remember how I had him for 14 years. I remember how I would find him waiting for me at the door every single time I came home. I remember how he loved to sleep on my feet, nap in whatever room I settled in, and would talk to me. I remember him with fondness, because despite his flaws, he was truly my gift from God.

And so, when I receive an imperfect gift from God, I want to remember, I can handle it. Because even though God's gift is not perfect, it is right for me.

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