Always Unwrapping

Just when I feel like I've laid my last offering out there on the altar, when I feel empty and unable to offer even one smile more... just when my eyes close in exhaustion with one more knock at the door...

a gift arrives.

These last few weeks the following sweet gifts have arrived in my hands from people we helped in the past:    pounds and pounds of fresh beans,  a puppy, cashews (hand-peeled and open-fire roasted), yucca, and amazing flowers and fruit trees.

Each time I go out to our new property, I find another flower planted or an orange, coconut, papaya or avocado tree planted... without cost, with love by our little neighbors.  

What to do with all of this love?

In a season of frustration on project delays, missing home, transitions and deathly heat,  I think I will just sit down with a cold Honduran Coca-Cola and unwrap these precious offerings... one-by-one.  And as I cook those beans, may I see the heart in the gift.    Though they have little, they give so generously.

Unwrapping.