"fearfully and wonderfully made"

“You need to give what you do not have. The thing you do not have is certitude and so you should give certainty to other people as a gift.” – Pastor Liz from “A Prairie Home Companion”

Thanksgiving is over and those leftovers are, thankfully, gone. Christmas is rapidly approaching and after that, New Years. It is a season of great joy, deep contentment, ongoing thankfulness and much excess. From Black Friday to Cyber Monday to all those last minute Door Buster deals, we are invited to overspend and overdo, and it is a challenge not to.

“Jesus is the reason for the season,” is the thought I use to keep my spending in check when the bright lights of the superstores begin to blind me; that and an ongoing awareness of how blessed me and mine have been, year after year. In truth, there is nothing anyone in my family needs.  

The holidays are also a time of physical excess. We eat too much; we drink too much; we sleep too little; we wear ourselves out, only to beat ourselves up for doing so. Hence, the vehemence of those New Year’s resolutions – we just feel so bad about all those delicious things we’ve been eating and drinking and enjoying way too much.

Anne Lamott, an author I truly enjoy, struggles with excess, body image, shoulds and should nots. Her post-Thanksgiving post on Facebook began with Psalm 139:14: “I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Marvelous are thy works and that my soul knoweth right well.” 

“Fearfully and wonderfully made…” Hearing that soothed my still-digesting soul and silenced the clamor in my head about eating too much, having too much and being too well blessed. What a wonderful description of our fragile, yet resilient selves, “fearfully and wonderfully made.”     

In our very own community we are witnessing a huge example of being “fearfully and wonderfully made.” It is the story of Tripp Halstead, the little boy who was severely injured by a tree limb that fell on him while he was playing outside at his day care on a windy day.  I don’t know the Halstead family and I’ve never met Tripp. I am, however, Facebook friends with several people who get the daily updates Tripp’s parents post and reading about their journey has brought more than one tear to my eyes.

Initially, Tripp’s parents were told to say, “Good bye,” that their little boy’s head injuries were too severe to survive. But, he made it through that night and the next night and all the nights that followed. Tripp is still alive and has recently moved from an intensive care unit to a hospital where rehabilitation is the challenge ahead.  

As a mother, I can’t imagine what Tripp’s family has been going through. I marvel at how strong and hopeful they remain. The community’s response has been generous, heartfelt and impressive and the tide of prayers, donations and well wishes shows no signs of ebbing. It’s clear Tripp has pulled on our collective heartstrings. His recovery has become a community cause that reminds us of how “fearfully and wonderfully made” we are. I hope he continues to defy the odds.

Tripp’s story, the Christmas story, the holidays, in general, remind me of how fragile and wonderful life is. One of the ideas central to the Christmas mindset, indeed the thankful mindset all year long, is the notion that the best gifts come from the heart.  

Pastor Liz from Garrison Keiller’s “A Prairie Home Companion” gave a sermon on that recently. The topic was, “You need to give what you do not have.” She talked about the widow who gave her last coin to Jesus and how that, among all the gifts he received that day, was the one that spoke to him. Pastor Liz went on to say, “The thing you do not have is certitude and so you should give certainty to other people as a gift.”

Perhaps that’s why I cling to life so tenaciously, feeding every stray animal or person that comes my way, and making sure those whom I love are showered with love and care and every piece of something that feels like certitude I can possibly give them. We, none of us, know what tomorrow will bring; so for now, take this hug, that can of cat food, a warm meal and let it create a few moments of certitude for you, from me.      

Tripp’s parents had no idea what lay ahead when they dropped him off at day care that morning…None of us know what comes next. I wish Tripp and his family continued strength and recovery. I know the prayers of this community will stay with them. As Helen Keller said,

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”

Life is good; there is much to be grateful for, for we are “fearfully and wonderfully made.”