Seeking the Gifts

I’m not fervent about New Year’s resolutions, but this year, Henri Nouwen’s website on Jan. 1 set a new direction for 2024. The year is young, and we’ll see how long my resolve lasts, but I resonated with his words, “live each day as a day full of promises. Imagine that we could walk through the new year always listening to the voice saying to us: ‘I have a gift for you and can’t wait for you to see it!’”

Pragmatic as usual, I began to try the practice daily. Surprisingly (or maybe because I was more attuned to them) the gifts abounded. One day it was a spectacular sunrise: pale blush along a mountain ridge, and at the same time, a lingering sliver of new moon. Another, it was seeing a marvelous film, “American Fiction,” that made my friend and me laugh aloud. Then, in the mail, thank you notes from my grandchildren for their Christmas gifts, colorfully illustrated. Or welcome news arrives, that the dear family members we’d said goodbye to at Christmas would return to visit President’s Day week. When plans change or events are cancelled, comes the unexpected gift which Ross Gay, author of The Book of More Delights describes, “as if the universe just dropped a luminous bouquet of time in your lap. Time which is scant and sinister…becomes spacious as the sky in Montana.”

Readers can add their own gifts to this sketch of an initial list: the first green tips of hyacinths and daffodils emerging in spring, a brilliant rainbow arching over children walking to school, the simple process of swimming, showering, and slipping into clean sheets, a conversation with good friends over lunch, the fragrance after rain, an intriguing book. Add in: a thoughtless remark that could’ve caused more harm, unsafe driving that could’ve resulted in a ticket or accident—and didn’t.

Some might ask if the gifts are always good. What about bad news? Over time, perhaps we learn to recognize clever camouflage. What at first might seem disaster turns out in the long run to be blessing. For genuine tragedy, I have no answer, nor desire to drape it in pious language.

On January 16, I was pleased to read Demetrius Dumm, OSB’s reflection in Give Us This Day, differentiating David from Saul. Each represents a choice in our lives. David is “in touch with God’s goodness, looking for the blessing… positive and imaginative in dealing with problems.” Saul is “ready for the worst, cautious to the point of paralysis, fearful…negative.” There’s probably a spectrum in between, but I hope the daily practice of seeking gifts will lean me more towards David.