Today I wrote Christmas cards at work. My grandparents live in a retirement community and as people downsize, my grandparents take their odds and ends and distribute them to their grandchildren. I’ve accepted a lot of the blank, mismatched Christmas cards, and this year I realized I have enough to give one to every student at my school. So there I was, writing simple lines that I hope the students will understand.
Suddenly a song lyric passed through my head. “Nothing is wasted.” It’s a song by Jason Gray. “Nothing is wasted,” he sings, “In the hands of our redeemer nothing is wasted.”
I thought for a moment of the people who had originally bought each card. They finished their lists and had one, or two, or a dozen cards left over. “What a waste!” they may have thought. “Why did we buy all of these?” “What a waste!” they may have though again as they or their children downsized into a smaller apartment. “Why did we hang onto these for so many years?”
But it wasn’t a waste. Not ultimately. I’ve found Christmas cards in Japan but they are expensive: at least $1 a piece, usually more. I can’t afford to buy a card for every student. But I did manage to find space in my suitcase for this collection, a collection some might have told me was wasted space. So much waste. But because of this waste, these students are receiving the only Christmas card they may ever get. That could be a trifling. Christmas cards aren’t food or water or clothing. These kids aren’t dying, at least not very quickly. I like to think, however, that there is a point to me giving them. Maybe some kids won’t care. But maybe others will feel more loved because of that Christmas card.
Nothing is wasted. In the hands of our redeemer nothing is wasted. Even as I wrote today, I was filled with gratitude for all of the people along the way who “wasted” time, energy, and effort getting these kids Christmas cards.