God does not call the gifted

We all have light within, we just need to pull it out and set it on a hill

It was a line that Anne Lamott quoted from her pastor's sermon on King David of the Old Testament. "God does not call the gifted, but gifts the called." I liked it immediately. I've been thinking about gifts lately, and the need to let them flow.

I think we tend to get it wrong about gifts. We look at geniuses, at stars, at people who have become rich because of some gift, and we think that is what gifts should do. But I do not believe that is the purpose of gifts.

Genesis says that when God finished creating, God looked at everything and said, "It is good." I think my reminder of that good is the gift God has given to me. I am not speaking here of some esoteric gift, some mind boggling earth shattering talent. I am speaking of the task or talent or ability that gives you joy. An ability that you should nurture. A task that, when performed, leaves you refreshed, not exhausted.

I am calling attention to this because I reflected on my own gift recently, as I walked by a piano in my church. I sighed and wished I had one in my little place. Not because I am a pianist. But because making music brings such joy to my heart and soul. When I play the piano, it's like I stepped for a time away from life as we know it here, and into another world. A world that does not count time or space. It is as though, somehow, God is released in that playing, and refreshes me in a singlular way. It is my little treasure I carry, and I am less when the opportunity is not there.

Do not let the world of glitter make you think light of your gift. Talent is not for standing up on a stage and proclaiming, only to be judged. It is that piece of heaven you carry inside of you, and which brings you joy. It is a reminder that yes, God gifts the called. And we are all called.

The Imperfect Gift

Buttons, my imperfect gift

This morning, as I bent down to pet my cat, I thought of what a gift he's been for me these past 13 years. He came into my life when he was found in the leaves, abandoned by his mother, a kitten of perhaps four or five weeks. He was scrawny, full of fleas, ear mites, and undernourished. At the time I was living at the monastery in MA. I nourished him, got him his shots, cleaned him up, and became his surrogate "mom". He's been with me ever since, through five moves and four states. He still sleeps on my feet most nights, loves to greet me when I return home, and continues to show remarkable energy for a 13 year old.

Yet, he is far from perfect. His mother having been a ferral cat, he still has strains of the wild in him. I never know when it will hit him to attack me for no apparent reason. I've learned the warning signs and can usually flee before it happens.He is also a very aloof cat, has never come to sit on my lap and will only allow me to hold him for about 7 seconds.

Yet, he is my gift. And as I left him this morning, and thought about all the above, I realized that our gifts don't have to be perfect to be appreciated. For whatever reason (and I'm not going to philosophize here) most gifts God gives us are imperfect. I think we need to accept that fact, or perhaps, even expect it.

An imperfect gift is still a gift. Maybe its God's way of helping us see life in the same manner. To concentrate on what is good instead of complaining about what is not. For I know few gifts that are perfect. But I know many imperfect gifts I would not want to lose.