“Emmy! Open it! Open it!” My young grandson calls me by my grandparent name as he places my Mother’s Day gift on the kitchen counter in front of me.
“Hurry up and open it so I can play with it!” He exclaims excitedly, so proud of the gift he had chosen for me; his honest exuberance about why he was giving this particular gift to me was infectious. I was as excited as he was, plus a little curious, to see a gift we both could play with.
“Oh, my goodness!” I exclaimed excitedly, making sure I made a big deal over this heart-felt gift. “I’ve always wanted an inflatable dolphin pool toy!” I gushed with pleasure, as the pool toy gift slid out of the pink wrapping tissue and onto the counter in front of me. “Thank you so much, Bud!”
Later that same evening, exhausted, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, looking forward to crawling into bed. I had just come from the room of my elderly mom, who had recently come to live with us. I had used the last of what was left of my caregiver patience by trying to reassure her she wasn’t inconveniencing me after we had struggled with an issue she couldn’t understand or fix.
“I’m done.” I grumbled in my thoughts, as I plodded up the stairs annoyed and weary.
“I. Am. Done! I was not meant to be a caregiver!” This time speaking out loud with emphasis on the ‘I-am-done’ with each stair I climbed.
“I have no more I can give; my ’giving’ tank is on empty!”
“Oh, Jesus,” I lament, my hands balled into fists of frustration at my side. “Give me a word you know will bring me peace again.”
As if on cue, Jesus speaks softly and gently into my tired heart.
“You must each decide in your heart how much to give. And don’t give reluctantly or in response to pressure. For God loves a person who gives cheerfully.” (2 Corinthians 9:7)
“What?” I responded, thinking I may not have heard correctly.
“This is the best you’ve got, God?” I lamented again at Him. “What does giving have to do with the frustration and how I’m feeling at this moment?”
“How about ‘you won’t give me more than I can handle or bear’?” I prayerfully toss back.
My grandson and his gift-giving moment from earlier in the day begins to replay in my mind. I recalled his exuberance as he gave me the gift he had chosen. My grandson gave his gift, from all he had, with a purposed and motivated heart; he had decided and was determined to give cheerfully. His giving hadn’t been done from being pressured, nor in reluctance or grudgingly. My grandson gave willingly.
Jesus spoke again with tenderness.
“Whether you are giving in a caregiving role to your elderly parent, or giving to someone who may come across your path, you will be the one who has to decide in your heart how much you will give. You will be the one who decides to do it cheerfully, without reluctance or pressure. I understand this all too well, Child, because I also had to decide in My heart to give Myself to redeeming a lost world, cheerfully, joyfully, and most of all, without reluctance.”
“Jesus, can you forgive me?” I ask Him, a quiet, peaceful awareness and humility replacing the frustration. I begin to cry, letting the tears come. The earlier moment of my grandson’s gift and his excited smile replaced my tears with a chuckle as I thought about his earlier enthusiasm for the pool toy’s use.
“Come on, Emmy! Let’s go swimming so I can use the dolphin!” He had yelled cheerfully over his shoulder as he raced out to the garage, eager to inflate the dolphin. “You can use it too!”
Tears threaten to spill again, but this time in humbleness because I was given two of the best examples I could ever have of being a cheerful, decided giver: my grandson and Jesus.
A thought popped into my mind, as I crawled into bed, and I giggled softly to myself.
“If God loves a cheerful giver, I wonder what my mom would think of an inflatable dolphin pool toy for her next birthday?”