Spontaneous Generosity

The other day I was at Costco with my parents. We had just loaded our purchases into the car and were about to back out of the parking lot when a man tentatively approached my dad's window. He got my dad's attention and dad rolled down the window to find out what he wanted. The man asked if we or anyone we knew could use some work done around their house. Since my parents live in a small townhouse and we rent a house and have two able-bodied teenagers to help out, neither of us needed any help at that point in time and politely informed this man of that. He accepted this news and told how he had been looking for work for some time and had tried to get hired at Costco, but they were not hiring. He then asked my dad if he could spare any money for something to eat. 


At this point my father surprised me a bit by opening his wallet and handing the man some money. I don't know how much because I didn't watch that closely. I didn't really need to know. His response pleasantly surprised me because for most of his life my dad has been a spendthrift. Especially when I was living at home as a teenager my impression of my father was that he wouldn't spend anything he didn't have to. He's still quite frugal, but has definitely relaxed as he has gotten older (though perhaps my mother would disagree with that!) But I cannot recall ever seeing him give money to a total stranger in a parking lot. 


I was proud of my dad at that moment. And ashamed of myself. Because I sat in the passenger's seat next to my dad and did nothing. It seemed reasonable at the time. Maybe it was reasonable. After all the man was addressing my father primarily. But I certainly didn't rush to open my wallet and share what I had.


I'm trying to practice spontaneous generosity more consistently. I confess that I have inherited my father's frugality. In addition, we live on a very tight budget. Some months we're not sure whether we will have enough to pay the bills. So I can justify to myself that we need the money for ourselves. But when I'm honest with myself I recognize and admit that, while not overflowing with money, we are not hurting. We have food on the table regularly. We have a roof over our heads. And should things get really bad we have family and friends who would step in to keep us afloat. I can afford to be generous. In fact, even if none of that were true of my situation, I can afford to be generous. I just have to choose to be.


I am guilty, as I imagine many others are, of justifying my stinginess when it comes to people asking me for money on the street. I know the arguments: that they're just going to use it on alcohol, that it doesn't really help the situation, that there are better ways to help. Yes, there are better ways to help overall. And yes, they may in fact use my gift on something other than what I would prefer. But I don't know that and when I prejudge them based on appearances or my own prejudices, I sin. And I miss out on an opportunity to be the hands of Jesus. Because I don't think Jesus would question their motives. I don't think he'd wonder whether he had enough in his wallet. I think he'd give what he could because he responded to human need without judging or condemning. But I'm more comfortable withholding my couple bucks and justifying my actions by my superior knowledge of “what's good for them.”


I've never been so poor, so desperate, that I needed to beg money for food. I can't imagine how it feels.


I'm trying to actively respond with generosity when the opportunity arises. I didn't that day at Costco, but thankfully my father did. I'm also thankful that my son was with us and I hope he noticed my dad's behavior. I didn't try to make an object lesson of it. I just hope he noticed. And I hope he notices when I respond the same way—not for my own glory or praise in my son's eyes, but so that he will see the example and as he grows he will choose to do likewise. I admit, I do want my son to be proud of me, because he sees in me in some small way the example of Christ.


I want to practice spontaneous (as well as planned) generosity. How about you?

The Things We Leave Behind

This summer our family had to make the difficult and painful decision to leave our home in Central Asia and return to the United States for a time. We have lived overseas for several years and had established our primary home there. Now we must dispose of all the things we have acquired and shipped there over the years because, while we plan to return in the future, that will not happen for at least three years due to the needs of our children. Central Asia does not have self-storage units for rent, our local friends generally have very small apartments, and our other foreign friends live transient lives just as we do. This leaves us with limited options for long-term storage. With this in mind my wife and I returned here this month to sell and give away most of our things. We will bring a few personal items back with us, but the vast majority of our belongings will be better off remaining behind.

Michael Card sings a song entitled “Things we leave behind.” In it he reminds us that: “We can't imagine the freedom we find, from the things we leave behind.” I've always liked this song. Now I have the opportunity to embrace that freedom wholeheartedly. But while I affirm the idea and even the result, the process of freeing oneself from one's possessions is painful and tedious. I suppose it would be easier if we just decided to part with everything, because then we wouldn't have to look at each item and decide whether it is important enough to hang on to. Because we do want to hang on to a few things though, especially those things that are important to our children, we must go through that process and after several days of it we are weary and sad. We know that we don't need most of the things we will pass on and in fact are filled with joy at the prospect of blessing our friends with many of them, but almost every item has some memories attached to it and letting go comes at an emotional price, be it large or small. Yes, we find freedom in the things we leave behind. But breaking those chains hurts.

Yesterday we moved out our children's bedroom furniture. On the one hand I was delighted to see it go, because it feels like a big step in emptying the house. I also knew that the items were going to people who could really use them and I found joy and comfort in that. But my wife and I also felt sadness seeing it go, because it was a tangible indicator that we do not expect to return here with our children, who will be ready for college by the time we expect to come back. We hope they will come to visit, maybe even for an extended period, but we don't expect them to live with us regularly here again. As has so often been the case in my life, joy tastes somewhat bittersweet.

I look forward to coming out on the other side of this process and enjoying the freedom of the things we have left behind. As we establish ourselves in the US again, I want to avoid accumulating things, although I know this will be the natural inclination. Our culture compels us in that direction, but I want to hold on to the freedom that I am gaining this month. Although bittersweet, it is truly liberating.

How to Use a Tax Return

This week I ticked an annual milestone off of my to-do list. My taxes are completed and filed, thanks in no small part to the help of one acquaintance who does the hard work for me (and in the process significantly reduces my stress levels. Thanks, Don!) This year we will be getting a return, which has prompted some thinking on my part. What should I do with this returned money? I've already tithed on it, so in one sense my conscience can be clear if I use it on our own needs and desires. I do know that I will use part of it to eliminate some debt that we accumulated due to some funding shortfalls last year. But what to do with the remainder of it?

Part of me feels that I should be a wise steward and set it aside for future needs. I already can foresee several expenses coming up this year that it might be helpful to have some money set aside for, not to mention those unplanned expenses that inevitably arise. Perhaps I should even put it into a longer-term account for retirement or long-term needs. That might be what a financial manager would tell me. These may both be very legitimate choices.

Or I could use the money to buy some things that would be nice for our family, things that we don't necessarily need but which we've been dreaming of. Would it be wrong to treat ourselves to something special? Or I could simply use it for something that would be helpful, but not essential, like replacing my 4-year-old computer.

Or what if we took this money and used it for something greater, something that would serve the purposes of God's kingdom? Some friends of ours are hosting an event on Facebook called The Barnabas Offering, encouraging people to give their tax returns to people serving God cross-culturally. I think that's a great idea. I know many such people who have really struggled recently with their funding decreasing due to the economic challenges in the US and globally. Or I could give it to an organization like Compassion or World Vision and help make a difference in the lives of poor families and children around the world. I could give it to families and individuals I know personally who face real financial need (not need induced by living beyond their means.) The reality is there are so many good possibilities that it's hard to choose.

It seems clear that the choice between spending it on unnecessary items for myself or my family or investing it in God's kingdom is a clear and easy one. But what about setting it aside as a wise steward for future needs? Is that a better choice than investing it now in real needs around the world? Part of me says that the wise steward should prepare for the future and, having some surplus now, I should set it aside for the future. But does this demonstrate a lack of faith in God's ability and willingness to supply my future needs? By doing this am I saying that I'd better take care of myself because I don't know if God will do it?

The truth is I don't know what the future holds. Maybe I would put this money in the bank only to see the bank fail and my money be lost (well, there's FDIC and all that, so theoretically I wouldn't lose it) or I could invest it, but then the investment might lose value rather than gain it. It seems secure to set it aside for the future, but that security is in fact very elusive and fragile. I might invest it for my retirement only to find that I never reach that age due to Christ's return or His calling me home sooner.

As we draw near to the Lenten season, this question weighs quite strongly on my mind. What would Jesus have me do? How would he have me use this resource? While I am waiting for the IRS to process my return, I'm going to be praying about this and asking Him to direct me and give me clarity and wisdom. And I'd be glad to hear your thoughts as well.

Global Food Crisis Day

One of my favorite descriptions of God found in the Scriptures is the phrase: "The Lord is gracious and compassionate." (Psalm 145:8, among numerous references.) I love that word "compassion." It's a great word. It derives from two Latin roots meaning "to suffer together." How cool is it that we have a God who is not distant and uncaring, but who suffers with us, who feels our pain and cares about our sufferings.

One of my favorite organizations chose this word for it's name: Compassion International. Compassion is dedicated to one thing, releasing children from poverty. That's a cause I can support with all my heart. Today Compassion promoted "Global Food Crisis Day," a day to call attention to the millions and millions of people around the world who cannot afford even a most basic food supply. We think times are tough in the US right now. In some ways they are. But our tough times would seem like paradise to so many people in the world. Food prices have been rising sharply around the world, which affects all of us. But it affects you far more if you only have $1 a day or less to live on and the price of flour, bread or rice just doubled. That's what happened in the last year we were living overseas and we saw the impact it had on families. Most of us as Americans can economize and still get plenty to eat. Not so for many in the world. They have no room to economize, so they do without.

God calls us to have compassion, just as he is compassionate. How can we show compassion to those who are less fortunate than us, especially when they live in far-away countries? One way is to sponsor a child through Compassion. By giving a mere $36 a month you can provide a child with food, an education and a chance for a better future. Or you can give what you are able to help provide food to the hungry. Visit Compassion's website at www.compassion.com to find out more. There are other good organizations doing similar work, but I can vouch for Compassion's integrity because I've supported them for more than 20 years.

Check out this blog (there are several posts following this one) for a first-hand account of some sponsors visiting their Compassion children in the Dominican Republic. Their stories are powerful and moving.