Anticipation

December 26, 2016

Greetings from Boxing Day,

There is a certain anxiety that comes with exchanging gifts.  As a giver, you wonder if the choices you made were good, and if the recipient will be happy with what you chose.  As a giftee, you wonder if this will be the gift you hoped for.  There is something else mixed in with this.

I thought about this yesterday morning as we opened gifts, a quiescent, decadent process at my home.  It unfolds as a long enjoyable conversation, punctuated with food and coffee.  What I learned is this; anticipation is a gift.

There is a certain amount of drama involved in our Christmas morning, including the traditions we have carried forward from when our children were small.  Taking a picture of them sitting at the top of the steps, praying before we open our gifts, and then taking our time, setting a certain cadence that allows for the enjoyment of every bow, each bit of paper, and then the gift itself.

All of this ties us together in ways, and also adds to the sense of expectation, of excitement. 

I have almost always curated the morning, handing out gifts one at a time, each carefully unwrapped and appreciated, before another is given.  I love that after almost every gift there is an exchange of grateful hugs.  I am happy that happens because it seasons the pace of the morning.

Before I paint too idyllic of a picture, you should know that we all love getting stuff.  Yes, we recognize the reason for the day, and when we slow down enough we respect and appreciate the effort that goes into choosing the gift, caring enough to do so.  But I also see the delight on our faces when we try on the hat we wished for.  It’s human nature.

But in all of this I noticed the where the joy is. 

When my daughter Katherine waited for her husband to open his gift from her there was a smile on her face.  When my son Carson felt the heft of the box in his lap, just before he ripped the paper, there was a sparkle in his eye.  Harrison trusted that whatever was inside the gift, it was given with love.  Sawyer, in the second before he recognized what he had opened, knew unequivocally that it would be something he would enjoy, because he knew unequivocally the giver’s intention.

The underappreciated joy, unburdened by whatever is inside the packaging, is in the anticipation of giving and of receiving.  It probably begins when we think about what would make the other person happy, and then set about finding it.  We envision what they would choose for themselves, what they would hope for, and we find a way to give it to them.  Even in that process we are already anticipating their smile.  And no doubt, as Christmas approaches, there is something in all of us that looks forward to a gift with our name on it under the tree.

As I sipped my coffee this morning I recognized the significance in this gift, one that will never be returned because it does not fit.  Anticipation is a gift we are always opening.  Built into this is a belief that what comes next will be what we want.  Or what we can make the best of.

I woke this morning with a blank slate for my day, and on that I will write what I will want most or what I dread most.  That is up to me.  Anticipation, the joy of expectation, comes from believing that what the future holds is what will be best.

None of us gets all of what we want, that is never the point.  It is what we fill in the space between one moment and the next that will give balance and richness to our lives.  What I would wish for my children, what I would give to them if I could, is the gift of hope.  The belief that what will come next, of their doing or from the chaos the world holds, will be a future they will thrive in.

Hope this finds you trusting,

David

Copyright © 2016 David Smith