100 Unwrapping Gifts Quotes — Niche Quotes 💬 (2024)

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I bought my brother some gift-wrap for Christmas. I took it to the gift wrap department and told them to wrap it, but in a different print so he would know when to stop unwrapping.

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Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life, and joy is always given, never grasped. God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy.

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It's like getting the best Christmas gift ever, but Santa decided to kick the crap out of you before you unwrapped it.

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Every day should be unwrapped as a gift.

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Worry is belief gone wrong. Because you don't believe that God will get it right.

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Are you calling me your gift?" "Yes." She smiled. "How do you feel about that?" "Like it's my turn to be unwrapped." He nibbled at her mouth. "Do it slow.

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The answer to deep anxiety is the deep adoration of God.

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Every day is a gift -- start unwrapping them.

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This story is about people,secrets and time.About people who, not unlike parcels,hide secrets,who cover themselves with layers until they present themselves to the right ones who can unwrap them and see inside.

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We’d been given a gift and our job now was to unwrap it…and see what’s inside.

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God doesn't want to number your failures or count your accomplishments as much as He wants you to have an encounter with Him.

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Worry is belief gone wrong. Because you don’t believe that God will get it right. Peace is belief that exhales. Because you believe that God’s provision is everywhere—like air.

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Perhaps the gift you seek already resides within you awaiting the day you choose to unwrap it.

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Then she looked at the man on the tree and she smiled wryly. "They just aren't as interesting naked," she said. "It's the unwrapping that's half the fun. Like with gifts, and eggs.

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You only begin to change your life when you begin to change the way you see.

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Open your eyes and see how many gifts there are to unwrap. Notice the presence of your presents. It’s not your life that is disappointing: it’s your mind.

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The funny thing about almost-dying is that afterward everyone expects you to jump on the happy train and take time to chase butterflies through grassy fields or see rainbows in puddles of oil on the highway. It’s a miracle, they’ll say with an expectant look, as if you’ve been given a big old gift and you better not disappoint Grandma by pulling a face when you unwrap the box and find a lumpy, misshapen sweater. That’s what life is, pretty much: full of holes and tangles and ways to get stuck. Uncomfortable and itchy. A present you never asked for, never wanted, never chose. A present you’re supposed to be excited to wear, day after day, even when you’d rather stay in bed and do nothing. The truth is this: it doesn’t take any skill to almost-die, or to almost-live, either.

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Joy is a function of gratitude, and gratitude is a function of perspective. You only begin to change your life when you begin to change the way you see.

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Okay, let me unwrap my present. Open those gorgeous legs. I want to devour my gift.

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You will b experienced as a blessing--to the extent you have fist experienced yourself as blessed. You must feel the fullness of your own pitcher before you trust the pouring out of yourself.

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God gives God. That is the gift God always ultimately gives. Because nothing is greater and we have no greater need, God gives God. God gives God, and we only need to slow long enough to unwrap the greatest Gift with our time: time in His Word, time in His presence, time at His feet.

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Hannah leaned her face against his chest, and he felt the curve of her smile. “What is it?” he asked. “Our first night together. And our first morning will be Christmas.” Rafe patted her naked hip. “And I’ve already unwrapped my present.” “You’re rather easy to shop for,” she said, making him laugh. “Always. Because Hannah, my love, the only gift I’ll ever want”—he paused to kiss her smiling lips—“is you.

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To get where you want to go, the first question you always have to answer is Where am I? ... We only find out where we are when we find out where He is. We only find ourselves... when we find Him.

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So God throws open the door of this world—and enters as a baby. As the most vulnerable imaginable. Because He wants unimaginable intimacy with you. What religion ever had a god that wanted such intimacy with us that He came with such vulnerability to us? What God ever came so tender we could touch Him? So fragile that we could break Him? So vulnerable that His bare, beating heart could be hurt? Only the One who loves you to death.

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But in all His relationships, God reaches for man. Reaches for you who have fallen and scraped your heart raw, for you who feel the shame of words that have snaked off your tongue and poisoned corners of your life, for you who keep trying to cover up pain with perfectionism.

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Three persons of the Trinity – Father God, Jesus Christ, and Holy Spirit – gathered close together to imagine you. And God in three persons, uncontainable affection, knelt down and kissed warm life into you with the breath of his love.You are made of dust of this earth and you are made of the happiness of heaven, and you are flesh and you are spirit, and you are of two worlds longing for the home of forever and him.No matter your story before, this is your beginning now: you were formed by Love…for love.

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Every day of life is a gift! Be sure to... unwrap it. Play with it. And, most importantly, give thanks for it!

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Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life, and joy is always given, never grasped. God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy. (Page 57)

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Glorious wrappings sheath the gift of one day more.Breathless I unwrap the package. Never lived this day before.

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I am more sinful and flawed than I ever dared believe, more loved and welcomed than I ever dared hope. ELYSE M. FITZPATRICK

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Your imagination is a gift, unwrap it.

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Very slowly, with hands, tongues, mouths, we unwrapped and untied ourselves, laying open gifts. Gave birth to each other again, as separate bodies who enjoy collision.

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No matter who we are, where we live, what we look like, the circ*mstances of our birth or the situations we face; each of us has gifts within us. Strength, beauty, courage, compassion, hope, joy, talent, imagination, reverence, wisdom, love and faith are among them. They are not like material presents we unwrap and hold in our hands. We can’t see these gifts with our eyes. But they are real and powerful. When we open ourselves to them, they can enrich every aspect of our lives. They can help us transform challenges into opportunities and tragedies into triumphs. They can help us make a difference in the world.

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She felt shy, like a precious gift being gloatingly unwrapped, but she didn’t resent his moment of purely masculine triumph. The glory of the moment was also hers, this beautiful man hers. He was giving himself to her and asking nothing but what she was willing to give in return.

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Can I aske forgiveness for someone else, someone whose already dead?Yes, you can. Of course you can. And you can give charity in their name and you can recite the Qur'an for their sake. All these things will reach them, your prayers will ease the hardship and loneliness of their grave or it will reach them in bright, beautiful gifts. Gifts to unwrap and enjoy and they will know that this gift is from you.

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Education is like Christmas. We’re all just opening our gifts, one at a time. And it is a fact that each and every child has a bright shiny present with her name on it, waiting there underneath the tree. God wrapped it up, and he’ll let us know when it’s time to unwrap it. In the meantime, we must believe that our children are okay. Every last one of them. The straight-A ones and the ones with autism and the naughty ones and the chunky ones and the shy ones and the loud ones and the so-far-behind ones.

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It is no use for you to attempt to sow out of an empty basket, for that would be sowing nothing but wind,” wrote Spurgeon.

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Today is a gift; take pleasure in unwrapping it!

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The past is a gift that should not be unwrapped in the present.

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Every religion, every program, every self-help book is about steps you have to take. Jesus is the only One who becomes the step—to take you.

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Without our Spiritual nature, life's a gift we can never fully unwrap." ~ With Thine Own Eyes: Why Imitate the Past, When We Can Investigate Reality?

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Unwrap me with all the verve of a new gift...After all, it is not every day I have enough clothes on to be present...able...

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Don't fear opening a Gift God gives you simply because the packaging isn't 't what you expected..we can't know what's in a gift given until it's unwrapped

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True gratefulness is courage to give thanks for a gift before unwrapping it.

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They just aren’t as interesting naked,” she said. “It’s the unwrapping that’s half the fun. Like with gifts, and eggs.

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You have been waiting for a gift all the while but you forgot that you are the gift - unwrap the gem within and shine!

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When they had unwrapped all their gifts, Ariel handed out

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He who carved the edges of the cosmos curved Himself into a fetal ball in the dark, tethered Himself to the uterine wall of a virgin, and lets His cells divide, light splitting all white. He gave up the heavens that were not even large enough to contain Him and lets Himself be held in a hand. The mystery so large becomes the Baby so small, and infinite God becomes infant.

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Let me pull you close and whisper a heart-stopping truth. That daily stuff—those responsibilities that seem more like distractions—those things we want to rush and just get through to get on with the better and bigger assignments of life—those things that are unnoticed places of service? They are the very experiences from which we unlock the riches of wisdom. We’ve got to practice wisdom in the everyday places of our lives. Never despise the mundane. Embrace it. Unwrap it like a gift. And be one of the rare few who looks deeper than just the surface. See something more in the everyday. It’s there.

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The family tree of Christ startlingly notes not one woman but four. Four broken women—women who felt like outsiders, like has-beens, like never-beens. Women who were weary of being taken advantage of, of being unnoticed and uncherished and unappreciated; women who didn’t fit in, who didn’t know how to keep going, what to believe, where to go—women who had thought about giving up. And Jesus claims exactly these who are wandering and wondering and wounded and worn out as His. Hegrafts you into His line and His story and His heart, and He gives you His name, His lineage, His righteousness. He graces you with plain grace. Is there a greater Gift you could want or need or have? Christ comes right to your Christmas tree and looks at your family tree and says, “I am your God, and I am one ofyou, and I’ll be the Gift, and I’ll take you. Take Me?

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While other creeds endeavor to get us out of the world and into heaven, in Christianity, heaven comes down and Christ comes into this world to get us. To suffer with us. We find favor—only because Christ feels pain.

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This story is about people, secrets, and time. About people who, not unlike wrapped parcels, cover themselves with layers and layers until they present themselves to the right ones who can unwrap them and see inside.

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Education is like Christmas. We’re all just opening our gifts, one at a time. And it is a fact that each and every child has a bright shiny present with her name on it, waiting there underneath the tree. God wrapped it up, and he’ll let us know when it’s time to unwrap it.

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You embody all of the beautiful and chaotic pieces of every person I have come across; a better version of myself, a reflection of heaven. A woman such as you is a gift that I am blessed to unwrap and discover over and over again, you reveal parts of you that I never knew existed.

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Many people are so enamored by the Glamour of the Gift of Life that they forget to Open , Understand and Live it. Unwrap your Gift of Life and find the True Treasure.

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Words are gifts that give to us all. Packaged songs and poems waiting to be unwrapped.

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Christ comes right to your Christmas tree and looks at your family tree and says, “I am your God, and I am one ofyou, and I’ll be the Gift, and I’ll take you. Take Me?

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He did not abandon you in the ultimate storm of your soul. He will not abandon you in the immediate storm of your now.

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But the Lord draws near to Samuel: “The LORD doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.

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the work of the very heart of Christmas: simply rest. Here is holy. The wonder of all this—God looks at you at your lowest and loves you all the way up to the sky.

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My mother used to say that each day was a gift and how we chose to unwrap it would determine our happiness.

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You are a gift to the universe, but a package is only valuable if it allows itself to be unwrapped.

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Time is a mysterious gift given with measure and purpose to be uniquely unwrapped and deployed in the service of feats that benefit humanity.

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Even if the gifts her mother ultimately gave her were a disappointment—a pincushion or a dreary pinafore—the unwrapping was always a delight.

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The greatest gift we can give our great God is to let His love make us glad.

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Wise men are only wise because they make their priority the seeking of Christ.

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A smile is complicated, complex, mysterious and puzzling: it is a gift waiting to be unwrapped.

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Gratitude is a gift we give ourselves because it unwraps the best in our lives.

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Mamie used to tell me that each new morning was like unwrapping a gift from God.

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Great faith is the greatest equalizer, the greatest eraser, and the greatest definer.

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There must always be a secret to be unwrapped at Christmas—that’s the rule

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The heat in her eyes? I put it there. She's like a gift that was never mine to unwrap. But now she's looking up at me like I hung the moon and stars.

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I was like a child leaving a gift unwrapped, the anticipation more exciting than the reality.

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If you treat each day as a gift, they can all feel like Christmas morning, not sure what you might unwrap next, but excited nonetheless.

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Jess, you’re the only thing in my life that’s never really made sense… In a good way. It’s like you’re the most unexpected gift I could ever receive. You give me life, baby... You always have.

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The outcome of your journey is your reward. The reward is who you become after the storm is over. Being broken is a gift from God, a package you get to slowly unwrap. What you find inside is all up to you.

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To be alive is a divine gift. And the more you gratefully unwrap your unique package and intentionally express the best of who you are, the less energy you have to waste on trying to impress or outdo others.

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Every single child is gifted. And every single child has challenges. It's just that in the educational system, some gifts and challenges are harder to see...We can help our kids who struggle in school believe that they're okay. It's just that there's only one way to help them. And it's hard. We have to actually believe that our kids are okay. We can start believing by erasing the idea that education is a race. It's not. We unwrap our gifts at different times. In the meantime, we have to believe that every last one of our kids is okay. The straight-A ones and the ones with autism and the naughty ones and the chunky ones and the shy ones and the loud ones and the so-far-behind ones.

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So slow down to feel the wind. Listen to the carols just a little bit longer. Linger in the quiet and taste the grace of now, and know that He is good and He is God. Name them in this moment—gift upon gift upon gift—and listen for the echo in everything: I will bless you.

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A life is a precious gift carefully wrapped. But if we never see it as a gift or worse yet we engage it as a troublesome burden, we won't believe that there is anything to unwrap. And I doubt that there are few things worse than living life but never embracing the gift of life.

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I've been thinking about seeing. There are lots of things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But -- and this is the point -- who gets excited by a mere penny? If you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat kit paddling from its den, will you count that sight a chip of copper only, and go your rueful way? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won't stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get.

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Unraveling is letting go in the best way possible, untangling the knots that hold you back, unwrapping the gifts you've hidden far too long, unearthing the potential that's always been there, finally ditching the labels and should-haves, and letting yourself be what you were always meant to be.

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If God gives you a gift and you don't know what to do with it, it won't make you happy. Some of you God gave a wonderful husband but you can't make a home and some of you God gave a wonderful wife but you can't make a good husband. Some of you can't even unwrap the gift so that you can appreciate it.

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Christmas can only be found. Christmas cannot be bought. Christmas cannot be created. Christmas cannot be made by hand, lit up, set out, dreamed up. Christmas can only be found. In the crèche. In the cradling trough. In the mire and in the stench and in the unexpected—and only in the dawning of Christ.

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We are born with gifts and talents, which we discover over time through new experiences. Talents invigorate our lives, incite our passions, allowing our authenticity to shine. To me, nothing is more tragic than someone never taking a chance, never stepping out of their box, only to leave this world with a myriad of unwrapped gifts.

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How do survivors feel? Relieved and grateful, perhaps. As excited about their saved life as if it were a gift that the rustling fingers feverishly unwrap from its packaging on Christmas morning and whatever is underneath: you are happy. This is how it should be when you have survived the worst. Far from the crippling horror we were feeling.

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What happened is inexplicably incredible. It’s the greatest gift ever unwrapped. Not the deaths, not the virus, but The Great Pause… Please don’t recoil from the bright light beaming through the window. I know it hurts your eyes. It hurts mine, too. But the curtain is wide open… The Great American Return to Normal is coming… [but] I beg of you: take a deep breath, ignore the deafening noise, and think deeply about what you want to put back into your life. This is our chance to define a new version of normal, a rare and truly sacred (yes, sacred) opportunity to get rid of the bullsh*t and to only bring back what works for us, what makes our lives richer, what makes our kids happier, what makes us truly proud.

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The family tree of Christ startlingly notes not one woman but four. Four broken women—women who felt like outsiders, like has-beens, like never-beens. Women who were weary of being taken advantage of, of being unnoticed and uncherished and unappreciated; women who didn’t fit in, who didn’t know how to keep going, what to believe, where to go—women who had thought

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Strange where our passions carry us, floggingly pursue us, forcing upon us unwanted dreams, unwelcome destinies.Her alleged abilities to sift the sands of daydreams until she produced the solid stuff, golden realities.Her power resided in her attitude: she behaved as though she believed she was irresistible.She sounds the way bananas taste.Some cities, like wrapped boxes under Christmas trees, conceal unexpected gifts, secret delights. Some cities will always remain wrapped boxes, containers of riddles never to be solved, nor even to be seen by vacationing visitors, or, for that matter, the most inquisitive, persistent travelers. To know such cities, to unwrap them, as it were, one has to have been born there. Venice is like that.

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a completely unhinged, typhon-souled, damaged Romeo wo would break your bed, heart, and resolve if you let him. not maliciously, no. And not because he wants to. He simply cannot help himself. H e would wreck everything in his way. This misunderstood, beautiful, brilliant boy who is burdened with gifts he never asked for, but unwrapped nonetheless. His talent, charm, and beauty are a weapon, and right now they're aimed at me

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So I pulled the ridiculously small, unwrapped, box from the sleeve of my yukata (as they don’t have pockets) and rather overly self-consciously handed it to her. She took the pitiful little box, held it up to her ear and gave it a cautious little rattling shake. -You didn’t just put a couple of dried old beans in here, as a joke, did you? She suddenly glared at me suspiciously. I heard a stifled bark from Yumi at that, and a deep gasp from Uncle Suzuki and Aunt Anda, followed by a moment of silence. -Of course not, you silly old goose, I snapped back, -just open it and you’ll see what’s inside!

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Saturday morning brought an Imbolc gift of thick fog, as our select company of three set off onto the rain-sodden moor. ‘Here we are,’ said Mrs Darley, as the well appeared before us after a ten minute climb. She immediately began to unwrap a joint offering from Phyllis and herself of an ivy swag interwoven with white ribbons and laid it across the lintel of the well. I followed suit but with a far more modest bunch of pine branches and silver honesty.‘Drinks, dear?’ Mrs Darley looked at Phyllis, who right on cue produced three paper cups from her bag and filled them with whiskey from a hip flask.

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Teeth retracting, Lissianna pulled free of Greg Hewitt’s neck and glanced guiltily over her shoulder. The sight of Thomas and her mother staring at her wide-eyed from the doorway was enough to make her stand quickly, her hands moving to straighten her clothes and hair. “I cannot believe this!” Marguerite stomped into the room. “Sneaking around and unwrapping your gifts before your birthday like you’re twelve instead of two hundred! What were you thinking?” “Well, technically, it is her birthday, Aunt Marguerite,” Thomas pointed out as he closed the door. Lissianna tossed her cousin a grateful smile, but said, “I wasn’t sneaking around. I came up to get fresh stockings.” She scooped them up off the bed, and added, “And I didn’t unwrap him.” Marguerite stared pointedly at the floor. After glancing down to see the untied bow lying forgotten there, Lissianna grimaced, and admitted, “Okay, I did unwrap him, but only because he was upset, and I hated to leave him distressed.” She paused, then tilted her head, and said, “I take it Bastien’s arrival interrupted you before you could put the full whammy on him? He was upset about being kidnapped and wanted to be untied when I got here.” “I didn’t kidnap him,” Marguerite said with affront, then peered past Lissianna to Dr. Gregory Hewitt to say, “I didn’t kidnap you. I borrowed you.”-Marguerite, Thomas, & Lissianna

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The air was steeped with the heady fragrance of roses, as if the entire hall had been rinsed with expensive perfume."Good Lord!" she exclaimed, stopping short at the sight of massive bunches of flowers being brought in from a cart outside. Mountains of white roses, some of them tightly furled buds, some in glorious full bloom. Two footmen had been recruited to assist the driver of the cart, and the three of them kept going outside to fetch bouquet after bouquet wrapped in stiff white lace paper."Fifteen dozen of them," Marcus said brusquely. "I doubt there's a single white rose left in London."Aline could not believe how fast her heart was beating. Slowly she moved forward and drew a single rose from one of the bouquets. Cupping the delicate bowl of the blossom with her fingers, she bent her head to inhale its lavish perfume. Its petals were a cool brush of silk against her cheek."There's something else," Marcus said.Following his gaze, Aline saw the butler directing yet another footman to pry open a huge crate filled with brick-sized parcels wrapped in brown paper. "What are they, Salter?""With your permission, my lady, I will find out." The elderly butler unwrapped one of the parcels with great care. He spread the waxed brown paper open to reveal a damply fragrant loaf of gingerbread, its spice adding a pungent note to the smell of the roses.Aline put her hand over her mouth to contain a bubbling laugh, while some undefinable emotion caused her entire body to tremble. The offering worried her terribly, and at the same time, she was insanely pleased by the extravagance of it."Gingerbread?" Marcus asked incredulously. "Why the hell would McKenna send you an entire crate of gingerbread?""Because I like it," came Aline's breathless reply. "How do you know this is from McKenna?"Marcus gave her a speaking look, as if only an imbecile would suppose otherwise.Fumbling a little with the envelope, Aline extracted a folded sheet of paper. It was covered in a bold scrawl, the penmanship serviceable and without flourishes.No miles of level desert, no jagged mountain heights, no sea of endless blueNeither words nor tears, nor silent fears will keep me from coming back to you.There was no signature... none was necessary. Aline closed her eyes, while her nose stung and hot tears squeezed from beneath her lashes. She pressed her lips briefly to the letter, not caring what Marcus thought."It's a poem," she said unsteadily. "A terrible one." It was the loveliest thing she had ever read. She held it to her cheek, then used her sleeve to blot her eyes."Let me see it."Immediately Aline tucked the poem into her bodice. "No, it's private." She swallowed against the tightness of her throat, willing the surge of unruly emotion to recede. "McKenna," she whispered, "how you devastate me.

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Talking with Merritt was like slipping into one of those silk-lined borrowed coats from the Challons. Comfortable, luxurious. She was whip-smart, understanding the details, the unsaid words. She had a way of wrapping people in empathy that extended to everyone from the duke down to the young assistant groundskeeper. It was the kind of charm that made people feel wittier, more attractive, more interesting, in her reflected glow. Keir was doing his level best to resist her lure.But he was so drawn to her, so damn besotted.He adored her fancy words... "prevarication"... "resplendent"... her easy smiles... her perfumed wrists and throat. She was like a beautiful gift that begged to be unwrapped. Just being near her made the blood sing in his veins.

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The funny thing about almost-dying is that afterward everyone expects you to jump on the happy train and take time to chase butterflies through grassy fields or see rainbows in puddles of oil on the highway. It’s a miracle, they’ll say with an expectant look, as if you’ve been given a big old gift and you better not disappoint Grandma by pulling a face when you unwrap the box and find a lumpy, misshapen sweater. That’s what life is, pretty much: full of holes and tangles and ways to get stuck. Uncomfortable and itchy. A present you never asked for, never wanted, never chose. A present you’re supposed to be excited to wear, day after day, even when you’d rather stay in bed and do nothing. The truth is this: it doesn’t take any skill to almost-die, or to almost-live, either.

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My dearest Violet,A belated birthday gift along with my regrets for not celebrating as we should have. All my love, CTears filled her eyes as she touched her chest where the locket rested beneath her clothing. She wore it still because she couldn't forget the morning he had given it to her, nor how she had felt, dumbstruck and silly with her love for him. A terrible but true way to describe the sheer bliss that had surrounded them. Blinking away the tears, she unwrapped the package revealing four books: Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Agnes Gray, and The Tenant of Windfell Hall. A quick examination revealed them to be all first editions.Dropping into the chair, she read his note again two more times. Her finger traced the C. As much as she despised what he had done, she couldn't stop herself from missing him.

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I am the LORD your God, who brought you out ofEgypt, out of the land of slavery. “You shall have no other gods before me. “You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. ... “You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God. ... “Observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. ... “Honor your father and your mother. ... “You shall not murder. “You shall not commit adultery. “You shall not steal. “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor. “You shall not covet. ...” These are the commandments the LORD proclaimed in a loud voice to your whole assembly there on the mountain from out of the fire, the cloud and the deep darkness; and he added nothing more. Then he wrote them on two stone tablets and gave them to me. ... [The Lord said,] “Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear me and keep all my commands always, so that it might go well with them and their children forever!” DEUTERONOMY 5:1, 5-22, 29 (NIV) Love comes

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In your heart is a secret room where all the gifts that life has given you, and which you haven’t opened yet, are piled up. When will you visit it and unwrap those treasures?

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Life is a Gift. Unwrap it slowly and savor each moment, or, rip through it like a hurricane and get tossed around.

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