Holiday mornings are special in our house as we ignore the waist line and have cinnamon rolls.  The rolls are baked in a cake pan with one in the center surrounded by the other seven.  My wife and daughters race to have the center one as the sides are still gooey protected by the other seven.  Over time, I, Dad would swap the center one out to one on the side on the serving dish before the dish is brought to the table in order to protect the special roll for my wife Sharon.

I distinctly remember the night of Jennifer’s death that I insisted I see Jen first without Sharon as I wanted to be sure Jen was presentable and I needed to “protect” Sharon from what Jen might have looked like after the accident.

I distinctly remember meeting with Jamie first in the waiting room and I had to be the one to tell her so that I could break the news as easily as I could in order to “protect” her.  Sharon and Jamie were all I had left and I had to “protect” them as best as I could.

We had a closed casket, mostly because we were told we had to because of how Jen looked after the autopsy.  It was to “protect” us, her family and her High School friends.

Sharon (my wife) has “protected” Jamie (my older daughter) from suffering the loss of her only sister by hiding the relationship that Sharon has with her three sisters.

This morning, almost five years later, I picture me, a mature Christian holding a bowl up of my most precious possessions to the Lord offering them to Him.  When he takes one, I cower and pull the bowl back down and cover it so no more are removed from the bowl.  This is a slight variation on training Sharon has had recently in Hospice but I am faced with the question of whether I have truly offered my gifts to my Savior or do I regret and fear when He accepts one.  I hang on to the thought that the gift He has taken will be more beautiful when He shows it to me again and only that thought gives me courage to once again raise the bowl of my possessions.

If I do not offer my possessions, will they be as beautiful if God does not touch them with the grief and the fire that burns off the dross?