We're packing up and readying ourselves for our 4am departure. In the process we're sorting through our clothes, deciding what to leave behind, and sifting through the choice ones to present as gifts for our dear translators. I have to shake off the societal norms I'm used to, where secondhand clothes cannot and should not be regifted. In actuality, our throwaways are of better quality then any of the clothes you can barter for at the local market. Yet I feel guilty, because what we will offer is really our worst, the tossouts of yester's fashions, at least for me anyway. I tell myself, I wish I had known these clothes would be gifts, because I would have brought clothes of finer material and design. Further down from my altruistic front, I know I wouldn't truly do so. I'd limit myself to what they would be cool with, thus bringing us back to our current sifting. I could probably fault the hefty consumerism I'm used to in the States, or maybe burrow myself in my pillow and wallow in the guilt of brutal truth. I'll settle for an appreciation for our God who doesn't hold back His best in redeeming us for Himself - a standard of giving only He can truly attain. What a blessing we can cling to eternally.