Dear God, your loving hand offers me the gift of peace. I hesitate for fear that I may cut my finger on the wrappings. How forgettable my pains are, dear Lord.
Facing challenge, I feel small and weak. I have a choice: in fear I may bluster and puff out my chest to assert strength – or I may laugh and revel in weakness as I accept your peace.
Lord, let me eagerly run toward what I fear, remaining small and meek. My hands are outstretched like a child’s, eyes closed, vulnerable.
This is the fun part, the moment before I unwrap the gift.