Brenda Wilbee's "Living With Ravens": #14: Learning To Give Appropriately: My Panda Bear

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

#14: Learning To Give Appropriately: My Panda Bear

Each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. --II Corinthians 9:7 (RSV)

1950's Vintage Panda
Could well have been mine.

Panda was my favorite toy when I was five. That Christmas, the fire department collected old toys for poor children. Even though Panda begged me not to give him up, the voice of my Sunday School teacher quietly argued, We never give God what we don't need. We give Him what we love the most.

My hurt worsened as I rode with my mother to City Hall, clutching dear Panda to my chest. “Go ahead,” said a fireman. “Lay your nice little bear right here.” Numb with grief, I laid Panda on top of a rusty truck. A lady with an orange hat dumped a stack of boys' toys on top of Panda, and I rode home heartbroken. But I didn't cry, then or for years; that would have meant I was selfish, and I didn't want to be selfish.

Ten years later I created a wonderful doll from my mother's scrap bag, with a wardrobe to rival Queen Elizabeth's. I took McCall (I'd created her from a McCall's magazine pattern) with me that summer to my grandfather's beach house. I'm not sure when I took it into my head to give her away, or why, but by the time we reached the cabin I knew I would. And when we found the Pattersons, missionaries home on furlough, also at the beach, I knew to whom I would give McCall--the youngest of the five Patterson girls.

“Are you sure you want to give away your doll?” my mother asked. This time I didn't hear my Sunday School teacher. I heard my own heart, saw the little girl and nodded yes. At fifteen, I'd learned what my Sunday School teacher didn't understand: God didn't require me to give away my heart, just to give from my heart. I had made up my mind for myself, and so I could give gladly and freely.

Sometimes I still grieve over Panda. But McCall? I remember her only with joy. She was given from a cheerful heart, freely and without guilt, so there's no room for regret.

Dear God, help me to know my own heart and mind so that I can give appropriate
gifts that bring everyone joy and none of us pain.

Originally published by Guidepost's Daily Devotionals June, Thursday 22, 1995

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ABOUT "LIVING WITH RAVENS"

Reflections For Women Living In the Hard Places

Remember Elijah? He’s the Old Testament chap God assigned to take on the prevailing god Baal, a rather nasty sort. God of rain, fertility, and harvest, Baal demanded the sacrifice of babies in massive bonfires. Rituals involved eating feces. To shatter this illusion of power that came at such a high cost, God sent Elijah to tell King Ahab there wouldn't be rain until God said so. The people needed to know who was in charge--Jehovah God, who freely gave. The response from King Ahab and Queen Jezebel was less than embracing.

Elijah ran pell-mell for the desert to hide in the stony outcroppings of Cherith. All he’s got is a crummy little creek cutting through the stone of a beastly hot desert. Oh, yes, the ravens. Foul, glossy black these things, eating nothing all day but road kill. Yet in Elijah’s extreme deprivation and isolation and fear pummeling his gut, the ravens became God’s saving grace. They brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening. Who would have thought that carrion-eating birds could be a man’s only hope of survival? It’s almost offensive. At times, it feels offensive. But then, sometimes that’s what grace looks like.

I know. Not what we want. We want “cured,” “livable wages,” “love,” "restoration." We want the window when the door slams shut. We want so many things--except ravens. So it's easy to dismiss what God sends—we don't even see these creative gifts of grace in the chaos of our fear, grief, despair, and gut-wrenching loneliness.

LIVING WITH RAVENS is for women stuck in their own kind of Cherith. Perhaps some of my own reflections of God intervening in difficulties will resonate with others who face similar challenges.