Please Accept This Toaster Oven
A few days ago I said to my daughter, “For your birthday we’re thinking we’d buy you a new toaster oven.” She’d been saying she needed one. But immediately she said, “That’s great, but what I’d really like would be for you to come and spend a day with me, just taking care of all these little projects and fix-its that I can’t do. I can buy a toaster oven—I can’t buy that.”
The oven I could buy on Amazon. What my daughter wanted was me. I would have to be present and spend time. Hanging a painting means we scope out the whole room. I hold it in place and she steps back for a look. Then she’s not sure. Would I take a look? It goes on like that—cutting back old bushes in the garden, installing tie-backs for the new drapes, finding paint samples for the front door. It’s time spent together, where eventually we find our way into career and children, memories and future plans. The project is just a pretext for presence.
I don’t know why I offered that toaster oven, when I knew she was under a lot of stress. As I thought about it over the next few days, the toaster oven became a metaphor for all the things we offer instead of ourselves. Some material gifts are truly a blessing, but often the things we give others—especially those we are given to love—are in place of ourselves. It’s cheaper, in relational terms, to spend money on a substitute. Christmas can be a gala of brightly wrapped substitutes. Birthdays, anniversaries too. The gift says: I don’t know how to be present to you, and I don’t have time right now. So please take this instead. It will at least keep us connected. I don’t want to lose you.
When we are fully present to someone, a material gift is pure fun. We can make the perfect offering because we know what makes them sing. But when we feel the distance between us and a loved one, when we sense their needs right now are personal, spiritual—then it’s better to skip the gift and become the presence.
I had no money when I was 5 – still don’t (lol) so my Mom said “why don’t you just make me a Mother’s Day Card.” I’ve been writing her a poem for 49 years straight now. It’s her favorite gift every year and drives my sisters NUTS! 🙂
She struggles with alcoholism after growing up Southern Baptist and not touching alcohol until she was in her 30’s. Beats herself up about not being the Mom she wanted to be. I thought she was amazing, so I leave all the “noise” out every year and just rhyme what an amazing Mom she was in my eyes.
That’s a remarkable story, Matt—that poem, 49 years in a row, is truly an offering of your heart. I’m sure your mom is wonderful, but you’re also a wonderful son.
let me tell you something David – she earned her keep 7th grade through high school! I was a handful to put it mildly – the Superintendent of our school system forbade me and my best friend ever having a class together after 8th grade! He’s an ENT doctor now!
Matt, your comment reminded me of something from Sunday’s sermon. The pastor shared the verse in Eph 2:10 about being God’s “workmanship.” He said a professor of his shared another word for workmanship – poem. We are God’s poem, lovingly crafted. Love the tradition with your mom.
I have sometimes heard that Greek word rendered—as you say—not as ‘workmanship’, but as ‘poem.’ Makes a wondrous difference.
love that Cathy thank you
Good for your daughter for being able to tell you what she needs. Somebody brought her up to be a healthy human being.
Thanks, Elizabeth—she is all that.
I think a lot of people don’t feel their presence is enough -that they have to buy the right to another person’s love and attention. So odd, considering most of us are really happy with the presence of others rather than the presents of others…Thanks, David!
That’s so true. There are so many levels to this—the reasons why we don’t feel our presence is enough.
So true, David, and a good reminder. And can I say thank you to all who comment, too? Your thoughts always add extra meaning, inspiration, etc.
Yes—I join you in thanking the commenters. I often say, the comments I receive are frequently better than the post they’re commenting on. That’s certainly true today.
The best birthday present I ever received was the birth of my first grandchild, Katherine Susan🙏For my 80th b’day she made a list of 80 things we had done together over her 25 years!!!For my 85th b’day she got every member of our family to write a special memory they had!!Several pieces of paper on which are written some of the happiest moments of my-our- life!! Gifts from the heart❤️Nothing is more precious than that😁🎂
Love that list of 80 at 80. We never forget gifts like that.
Many years ago, through the International Star Registry, I gave my Dad possibly the best birthday present he ever received: a star officially named after him. This star, registered as “Charlie”, is somewhere in the belt of Orion but not at all visible like the three bright belt stars, Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. Upon receiving this gift my Dad opened up to me in a way I had never experienced before, and told me how through his life, and especially during his experiences in World War II, Orion held so much meaning for him as a fixed point of navigation; his own North Star, and as a way to never felt lost in the world.
You certainly inherited your father’s love of the stars. Thanks for this.
What a gift your daughter gave to you as well! “Time.”
Yes—lucky me, for sure.