“Sticker Shock” (and finding Jesus)

A couple of weeks ago, after my daughter and I both recovered from one of the nasty viruses circulating now, we undertook one of the highlights of my little girl’s life each year–preparing shoeboxes for other little girls.  This shoebox ministry, a ministry of Samaritan’s Purse, is such a lovely one.  Shoeboxes are filled with items that would be meaningful to children (like small toys, schools supplies, and toiletries) and then shipped to places all over the globe.  Though boxes are sent to both boys and girls, my daughter always puts together girl boxes because she feels that females get less of a fair shake around the world.  And well, something interesting happened as we packed boxes this year–we lost Jesus.

You see, one of the items we always include in the shoeboxes is a special card for each child; and this year, we had a very special sticker to put inside each child’s card.  The stickers looked like a large postage stamp and on each one was an image of Christ lovingly carrying a little lamb clutched to his chest.  We thought it would be perfect to include such stickers since we always write several shepherd-specific Scripture verses in each card.  The image of Jesus as our shepherd has always been a very special one for our family; it is the image that God used to bring my husband to belief in Christ many years ago, and it is an image that has adorned the walls of our daughter’s room since before she was even born.

So, as we packed those shoeboxes, scrambling as usual to meet the deadline, my daughter gasped and said almost painfully, “Oh no!  We lost Jesus!”  And we, in a sense, really had.  One of our Shepherd Jesus stickers had mysteriously disappeared; and my daughter found it completely unacceptable to send all of the girls except one a Jesus sticker.  “That wouldn’t be fair, Mom.  It just wouldn’t be fair.”  Realizing how little time we had to deal with what did seem like a calamity to her, I began to pray in my head, knowing all the while that there was simply no way we’d ever find such stickers again.  I had bought these stickers years ago and knew that we were giving away the last several we had this year.

I decided I needed to try and reason a little more with my daughter thus I encouraged her to remember that the image of Jesus is not really Jesus and that it would really be okay if one girl didn’t get such an image this year.  She, however, was having none of it.  So, we began to tear the living room apart, throwing couch cushions on the floor, crawling under the couch, looking back through all of the items in the shoeboxes we had so very carefully already packed, and losing our cool more than once with one another.  And, just then, as we decided there was nothing else we could do to find Jesus, my daughter leaned her tired head on one shoulder and gasped loudly as her mouth dropped open; and I heard the words, “He’s there, Mom!  He’s right there!  And he’s been there the whole time!  Can you believe it!”

And as I leaned over and followed her eyes, I saw what she saw.  Our little Jesus had somehow slipped out of the card and was clinging to the side of the clear plastic shoebox and looking right out at us.  My daughter quickly pointed out to me that if the sticker had been facing the other way (white side out), or if the sticker had been clinging to the box behind the label on the box, or if the boxes we had chosen this year had not been clear the sticker would never have been visible to us at all.  “Wow, Mom, I think this all means that God must really want the girl who’s going to get this box to get Jesus too!”  I just love the way her mind works sometimes (and I can assure you that very different things were going on in mine).

But, I do believe she is right–there is nothing God would want more for any of the girls he created.  The gift of his Son, not a facsimile of him but the real him, is indeed the ultimate gift.  I feel like all of this drama, which I’ve playfully referred to as “sticker shock,” has served to remind me of several things worth remembering.  Images of God can serve a purpose but, if such images do not serve to point us to the real thing, they are worthless.  This makes me think of how some of us have images of things like our dream car displayed around our homes, but one’s dream car does not become real just because one is constantly reminded of it.  And only the real car itself, not the picture/reminder of it, has any true value.

I was reminded too that Jesus really is with us, even when it seems we can see precious little evidence of his presence, even when it seems we have lost him for good.  Something else I was reminded of via this sticker shock is how very sweet it is to see God in even, and maybe even especially, the very smallest of things.  No one could convince my little girl that that lost Jesus sticker was not of the utmost importance to her God–she believed it, and still does, wholeheartedly.  And I believe it too, not so much because of what that sticker is but because of who that little girl is–she is his and, as such, he cares about even the tiniest details of her life.  Yes, he’s a big and holy, awe-inspiring God but he’s also a tender, ever-involved Dad.  “Abba,” Jesus said to the Father as he prepared himself to die on our behalf.  “Daddy/DaDa” is how I’ve seen this translated from Aramaic to English.  Talk about intimacy!  God is the only reader of our hearts and we can ask him for anything, even a rather too Anglo-like sticker image of his beloved Son.