gifts – Not Quite Ordinary

Advent Week 3: Frankincense for Remembering

Posted on December 18, 2024December 17, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Our Advent focus at church continues with the three gifts of Christmas, this week focusing on frankincense. The primary question brought up in this week’s sermon (which you can find here) connected the idea of worship and incense: what “smells” like worship in our lives?

Smell is a very powerful trigger. In an instant, a single odor can take us from joy to anxiety, from depression to comfort. Smell incites physical responses such as allergies or migraines. It triggers emotions. It prompts memories. It activates cravings. It provides warnings and feeds anticipation.

Some people are more sensitive to scents than others. I fall in the “more” category. Things like perfumes or tobacco of any sort can quickly trigger an allergic response or migraine — or both — for me. On the other hand, scents that don’t cause a negative impact can fill me with excitement!

I don’t know that I ever tire of the smell of cinnamon. It’s comfort and health and pleasure and joy and so many other emotions I can’t even name.
The smell of rain after a dry spell is a lifelong treasure.
The smell of snow always makes me smile.
The smell of meat cooking, of a wood fire, of leather, of a new book…

I could go on and on.

As I think about the power of smells and ponder the question of what “smells” like worship in my life, I realize that the things I do — and even my very presence — can have as strong of an impact on others as certain smells.

I’ve always wanted to have a positive impact on people, to be considered a positive presence in their lives. But, I’ve always wrestled with the feeling that I’m the opposite. Growing up, I believed that others didn’t truly like being around me. They just felt obligated for one reason or another (I could always come up with a reason), and if they were left to their preferences, I wouldn’t be wanted. While I do know that was true in some situations, much of that revolved around my own insecurities, and those insecurities have persisted into adulthood.

But as I ponder this question more, I realize that the anxiety I felt about other people stemmed from the fact that my approach was wrong. I am not here to have a positive impact on people. I’m here for one reason and one reason only: to point others to Jesus. That’s it.

The “smell” of my presence in this world should be the “smell” of Jesus.

I know for a fact that I don’t do that well. I’m a perfectionist, and so my “smell” is often that of making sure all of the details line up. My “smell” too frequently makes others feel that they don’t measure up, despite the fact that I’m the one who feels inadequate in most situations. My “smell” is caught up in the here and now. In the details. In things being “right.”

While in some situations the details are important, they are always secondary to Jesus. Always. And that’s what my life should reflect.

I should radiate worship. The love of Christ. The joy of His presence. The comfort of His grace. The power of His forgiveness. The reality of His pure judgment (and never mine!) that is so entwined with everlasting, unfailing love that the two can never be separated. Those things are the smell of worship. The smell of Christ Jesus.

To be honest, I’m not overly enamored by the smell of frankincense. It’s not bad. It doesn’t cause a migraine or trigger my allergies or incite negative emotions. It’s just not a favorite smell. But, I love the idea that, in Old Testament texts, it’s shown as the smell of worship. It was included in almost every worship-based sacrifice, as well as being part of the unique incense blend laid out by God for use in the tabernacle. When the Israelites smelled frankincense, they would think of worship. Every time.

That’s how I want to live my life, as a person who makes others think of worship. Of the presence of Christ. But how do I get there?

By establishing my own reminders to focus on worship throughout each day. The smell of frankincense might not do the trick for me as it did for the Israelites, but there are many other things that can remind me. My job is to let those triggers do their work. To not be numb to them, as we can often become numb to certain sights and smells. To actively respond in worship whenever I encounter the reminders.

I can only draw others to Christ when I am faithfully focusing on Him myself.

Lord, make me like frankincense!

Thoughts from Kids

Giving Life

Posted on October 30, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

I’m struggling to find words. Not ideas. Just the words to share those ideas in a way that is kind and loving and not grumpy or angry. I’ve written and rewritten. Edited and tweaked. Debated.

You see, I have a component to my personality that can sometimes be beneficial, but other times it’s a bit of a nuisance. I can easily see multiple perspectives of a story. I can understand, and even empathize with, two sides of an argument — yes, even when my own opinions fall heavily on one side or the other. While I can’t always envision how our actions and words will ripple into the future (my husband is a genius at that!), I can see multiple responses to situations happening in the moment. And in this moment, that vision is breaking my heart. And I want to share it so other people can understand. But can I? Here’s my attempt, feeble though it may be.

We’re heading into the time of year when stories of generosity will flood our media. We’ll be drawn to the heartwarming tales of people whose lives were impacted by extravagant gifts as well as to the people or organizations that make those gifts happen.

We as Christians love to not only hear these stories but to also find a way to be a part of these stories. We want to show how we are being the generous hands and feet of Jesus. On the one hand, it’s not a bad thing to be active participants in these stories. But there’s another side to this tale that we also need to consider, and that’s the side of the everyday people who are watching as we broadly and boldly declare our generous acts for all to see.

We need to consider the grocery store cashier or restaurant server who is hoping and begging for enough hours to simply pay their bills. They have no clue how they’ll go beyond that and be able to give gifts to their loved ones. But, they watch as the church crowd floods their workplaces, still dressed in our Sunday best and talking about the sweet time we had blessing gifts to be sent out to the uttermost parts of the world. But, even as we talk about our own generosity, we’ve already turned off our Christ-like attitudes to the people serving us. We are rude. We are demanding. And we are the opposite of generous. They watch as we come into their stores or to their teller windows harried and grumpy. They deliver our packages or take our customer service complaints. We end up taking out our frustration on them because they are…there. They’re just faces waiting to meet our needs or voices on the other end of the phone call to hear our complaints. It’s not that we’d ever admit to seeing them as sub-human. It’s just that we don’t stop and think of them as individuals with their own joys and hurts and struggles and passions. They’re just there to take care of our immediate needs, and then we move on and they keep on. As a result, we’re not careful with how we handle their hearts.

The thing is, they see us. They hear our conversations and see the news flashes about how we’ve delivered Thanksgiving meals to the poor, packed Christmas shoe boxes, fulfilled Angel Tree wishes, and more. They see how we broadcast our giving. They see the pretties we put on picture-perfect social media. The stories that go up in shining lights because they make us feel good. (Matthew 6 kind of punches me in the gut right here.) But then they feel the brunt of our reality. Our harried lives. Our stresses and strains. Our hurts that twist our actions. All of which we end up taking out on them.

It’s may not be intentional on our part. It’s just…life.

But maybe that’s my point. My heart is aching because of the way we live life. It’s aching because we are so concerned that other people know we’re participating in the socially acceptable modes of alms-giving that it distracts us from the act of giving life to others. Because what better gift could there be?

And yet, in many cases, we’re giving the opposite. We’re giving hopelessness. We’re removing the chance for so many people to see the goodness of God because we’re focused on our heartwarming stories instead of on speaking love into their everyday stories of hurt. They don’t see God’s goodness lavished on them. They just see that they’re not worthy of it. They perceive that God only wants to give when it makes for a good story, and they’ll never be a good enough story.

Ouch.

I’m not saying that we should stop our generosity. When we are able to give gifts this time of year, they do make a difference, as they do when we help meet needs of teachers and students at the beginning of a school year or take action to help alleviate the massive food insecurity that exists right around us.

But I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we would put more energy into daily life-giving than into making sure our community knows what kind of gift-giving we’ve chosen this year. What would happen if we were to bestow kindness upon the store clerk who rings up the gifts we’re purchasing? What would happen if we were able to deliver a Thanksgiving meal without making the recipient feel the shame that comes from needing it in the first place?

What if instead of trying to engage in elaborate, life-changing events, we were to change the way we live our daily lives? Could it be that we wouldn’t need the elaborate because the daily, mundane activities would make the difference? It would be without fanfare. It might not even make for a feel-good story to share. But it could give life. What better gift exists?

Around the Web, Repost, Thoughts from Life

Sock Dolls & Homeschool Tradition

Posted on December 15, 2016December 13, 2016 by Ann B. Hibbard

Remember the “looking back at old posts” idea from yesterday? Here’s a post that I wrote nearly three years ago for work purposes. The sock dolls aren’t as prominent these days, having given way to other things. But, the traditions birthed from those sock dolls are still growing. This is a precious memory.

My daughter’s ninth birthday was just around the corner. She loves homemade gifts, but this particular year she had no requests and I had no ideas. So, my husband and I made plans to purchase a gift or two instead of making something. Suddenly, inspiration struck! Two mere weeks before her birthday, my precious child decided all she wanted for her birthday was a homemade sock doll.

To this day I have no idea where she got the sock doll idea. I wonder if she even knows! I began to interrogate her, trying to determine where she had seen or heard of the idea, but she would just shrug and say the thought popped into her head. I dug deeper, hoping to determine just what sock doll image she carried in her mind so I could attempt to create what she was envisioning. A doll made out of socks seemed to be her only criteria.

After finally remembering a sock doll pattern book my mother-in-law had passed on to me some time before, I set to work. Pressed for time and lacking in confidence, I prayed I could create something that would make my daughter smile. By the time the big day rolled around, a nightgown, two dresses, and a brown-haired, green-eyed sock doll named Susan were wrapped and ready for my brown-haired, green-eyed birthday girl.

Not Just A Doll…

I never would have imagined the tradition that sock doll request would become.

Hardly a birthday or Christmas passes without at least one more doll joining the family. A year after Susan’s arrival, William graced my daughter’s tenth birthday celebration. Ella joined the sock doll family a few months later when my daughter decided that her little sister needed a doll of her own. William and Susan now have a son named George, and Ella met Oliver this past Christmas. My son, who was given a blue-eyed chef named Han for Christmas, is helping me assemble a little sister for George. I believe my middle child has created a sock bunny, and both George’s little sister and the sock bunny will soon be wrapped up and presented to my oldest for her twelfth birthday.

When I first started homeschooling, I mourned my inability to establish homeschool traditions.

I hate paper crafts, and I never could get my act together early enough to plan the perfect food celebration for every holiday. I felt like a failure because holidays such as President’s Day and Valentine’s Day would pass by without an educational, yet celebratory, plan. An old school year would simply end with little fanfare, and a new one would begin in much the same way.

…A New Tradition

Only after the sock dolls began multiplying with great rapidity did I realize that our family really is creating homeschool traditions. We usually forget to work in thankfulness activities all through November, put out the perfect Valentine’s display, or welcome Easter with reminder-filled baked goods. But we do not forget to line up the sock dolls and their stuffed companions to help recreate the first Christmas. We always remember to pull out a favorite book in March to make sure the stuffed menagerie knows the story behind St. Patrick’s Day. Napoleon the Penguin preaches stuffy church every Sunday, and Alf the Calf has performed at least one sock doll wedding in full-fledged Impressive Clergyman fashion.

I no longer mourn the holidays and events that pass us by without the typical homeschool crafts and foods.

A cheap bag of men’s tube socks, some fiberfill, and a supply of fabric scraps might not seem like much for other families, but for us they symbolize surprising tradition in the form of pilgrim and Indian sock dolls retelling the story of the first Thanksgiving. That, my friends, is tradition enough for me!

Tag: gifts