[This post was written by Christi Avant Watson, my eldest daughter. You can find her writings at www.christiavantwatson.com or follow her on Instagram at @cavantwatson.]

Earth was born wrapped in the perfect peace of its Creator. Your best gift-wrapping skills have nothing on His.

“Let there be light,” and there was a furious flame of unimaginable heat infusing vitality into everything yet to come, billions of perfect tiny balls of fire piercing the black, a giant mysterious orb illuminating night.

“Let there be life,” and the previously established seas began to heave with the breath of millions of swimming things.

“Let there be” turned into “Let us make,” and humanity began, unwrapped and unashamed.

The need for wrapping ourselves began with the rejection of what God called “enough” for us. We had the literal voice of the Father walking with us through Eden, yet we listened to the voice of the viper. When we reached for that fruit, what we were really saying was, “We want more.”

With our knowledge of good and evil came the knowledge that we are embarrassingly exposed and utterly out of control. And our response to this realization? COVER IT! Our mother Eve and our father Adam ramshackled coverings from fig leaves.

Today, we are a bit more technologically inclined, and oh, what wonderful wrappings we conceive!

Cover it with the right insta-filter, the right price, the right politician, but whatever it takes, COVER IT. All the while, the Creator calls, as He did in the beginning, “Where are you?” He traded Adam and Eve their ramshackled wrappings for clothing made of skin.

I wonder what had to die. What skin was it? Something had to die. Blood was the only adequate answer.

A few thousand years later, Jesus, “being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (Philippians 2:6-7 NIV).

He screamed His way naked into a manger, and His mother did what every mother’s instinct is to do—she covered Him in a security blanket. This one didn’t come in a monogrammed chevron pattern. It reeked of two terrified, impoverished refugees. The God-baby that it covered became our covering.

And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:8).

As Mary Magdalene and the other Mary fled from the empty tomb, Jesus met them, carrying the keys of death and hell, and said, “Do not be afraid” (Matthew 28:10).

The One who traded our ancestors’ skin for figs offers us a trade, too: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Come to Me, all who are suffocated by your own security blankets. I will trade you. I will take your blanket, and you will take Mine.

I will cover your hate with kindness. I will cover your pride with humility. I will cover your judgment with compassion. I will cover your hurry with patience. I will cover your anger with forgiveness. I will cover your anxiety with My peace.

Even now, you look cold, so I’ll give you a coat, too. “And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts” (Colossians 3:14-15).

Are you ready to trade blankets?