Temporary Tissue Paper

“God would never choose for us safety at the cost of significance.”

–Erwin Rapahel McManus

I am mesmerized by tissue paper. I seek it out at every party store, stock it up in my pantry, fluff it up in every present I give and fold it up tight when I receive it.

I am, at times, more impressed with the tissue paper of a gift than the gift itself.

Isn’t there just something about polka dots, pink and paper so sheer you can see the world through it?

I think, in life, I’m mesmerized by tissue paper as well.

I get so caught up in the wrapping of this place — this earth — this one shot, that I often overlook the deeper, lasting gifts given to me completely.

I see a house with a white picket fence.

I see an office with an actual address.

I see a convertible with my hair blowing wildly in the wind.

And I neglect to look deeper.

Because again, there is just something about the polka dots, pink and paper so sheer it tints my world to a brighter hue.

I say, “I want to be like Christ. I want to know Him.”

And most of the time, that’s a tissue paper statement. It looks good, adds flair, is polka dot and pink.
It’s a Christian wrapping. A gift bag we present – perhaps with good intention, but with lacking conviction.

“I want to be like Christ.”

A dangerous declaration.

It means nails in hand, betrayal in full, hunger for 40 days, temptation that aims to take, the weight of sin, the pull of the crowd, the ache for silence, the sickness of a wayward world. It means suffering in righteousness and patience in affliction. It means the testing of faith, hidden glory, the taking up of a daily cross.

“I want to be like Christ. I want to know Him.”

A gift.

Hidden underneath the tissue paper of this life.

I want to be one who looks past the polka dots and pink. Who means it when she says, “I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it.” Philippians 3:10-11

I want to live dangerously.

Not worried about tearing up the paper this present is wrapped in.

I want to forfeit my hold on the temporal so I can fully embrace the eternal.

I want to live dangerously.

How about you?



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Kristen Schiffman is the founder of Exemplify Magazine. She welcomes you to check it out today!