"Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift." (2 Corinthians 9:15 ASV)
The story of how my husband and I met, fell in love, and got married is a little long and a lot lovely, but the short version is this: I picked him up at church one Sunday when I was home from my post-college job for a family funeral and he was home on break from law school.
Some advance groundwork had been laid, but it is almost no exaggeration to say that we talked for 20 minutes, got in our respective cars with our respective families, and told them, "Well, that's who I'm going to marry."
Our long-distance courtship commenced shortly thereafter. Because we were seldom in the same state, I figured out when my future husband was going to propose. He figured out that I had figured it out, though, and changed his plans in order to surprise me. Which is how, about ten minutes after he had asked me to marry him, when my unsuspecting mother called, and my brand-new husband-to-be answered and asked his future mother-in-law if she wanted to speak to his fiancee, something happened that we don't believe had happened before or has happened since: my mother was speechless.
My husband is unquestionably an unspeakable gift to me and to our family, from the God of unspeakable gifts.
God's gifts are unspeakable because we do not have words to describe their value. But God's gifts to us do speak.
God's gift of His Son speaks of His love and of His longing for relationship with us. It tells us that, other than His holiness, there was nothing He was not willing to give up to gain us.
God's gift of grace speaks of His willingness to give us what we can never deserve. It tells us that His compassion toward us far outweighs any scale or set of balances.
God's gift of the Holy Spirit speaks of His desire to be present with us. It tells us that He wants to be part of our lives from the inside out.
God's gift of each new day speaks of His purposefulness. It tells us that He has something for us to do on and with that day.
I look at these gifts, and I have no words. And that, really, is as it should be, if only my heart always knows what to say: "Thank You, God...thank You, thank You, thank You."
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I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to tell me what you really think. Years ago, I explained to my then-two-year-old that my appointment with a counselor was "sort of like going to a doctor who will help me be a better mommy." Without blinking, she replied, "You'd better go every day." All of which is just to say I've spent some time in the school of brutal honesty!