#10 - Give and It Shall Be Given Unto You

Give and it will be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over. --Luke 6:38 RSV

Banff AB

A few years ago, my friend Shawn gave me money to fix my computer when I was down and out. "God isn't all that organized about handing out wealth," he explained. "So it falls to us to even things out a little. When you have enough, Brenda, don't pay me back. Just pass the extra on."

Two years ago, when I discovered that the Jorgensens, a much-loved elderly couple from my childhood, had no money to replace their totaled truck, I thought of Shawn and knew what I could do. I sent them some money to help them buy a car that would at least get them up and running.

This year it seems my money is going faster than usual, with my kids in and out of one medical emergency after another. On top of that I have to finance a trip to Alberta, Canada, to do research and take care of my own health in a drier climate. But how? After weeks of dither, I finally told myself, "I've prayed about it and I'm convinced God wants me to take this time and to do this project. So I'm not going to worry about it any more. I'll call and book a month at some cabin for me and the kids and see what happens." Which I did.

But when I added up the cost, I nearly fainted. Where was I going to get the money to pay for it all?

In the mail this morning was a registered letter--from the Jorgensens. The check enclosed was enough to pay for the trip. They were up and running, they wrote, and wanted to return my money.

My money? No, God's money. Starting with Shawn, only this time coming full circle back to me, today, with God's wonderful timing.

Dear God, Thank You for opportunities to give, and to receive. And to give again. Help me to keep trusting in Your abundance when funds run thin.

#9 - A Remembered Promise

I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten. --Joel 2:25

I kinda went crazy when my daughter got married fifteen or more years ago. My marriage to her father had been one of disappointment and heartache. I found myself spending hours outdoors in my garden the week before the wedding, crying, weeding, transplanting, fertilizing.

Three days before the wedding I started shopping for pretty jewelry. I didn't know why; I'd never had any. I lost my credit card. I switched to my check book and came home having spent money I didn't have to a pile of yet more telegrams and phone messages from my daughter's father. The back story on this isn't pretty, and my spirit broke in the ugly face of the terrible, haunting marriage that had been mine. My sixteen-year-old son came home and found me curled up under his baby blankie, crying.

I blubbered out what I'd done. He sat with me on my bed while I showed him all the jewelry, the bracelets and rings, the necklaces--the pearls and diamonds and precious stones. A single mother with three children, this was lunacy.

"I think I know what you're doing here," said my sixteen-year-old at last. "I think you're buying yourself the nice things he never did."

I stared at him. That's exactly what I'd been doing.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "We're going to take all this back to the stores tomorrow, and I promise to someday buy you a pretty ring."

Blake's promise touched me deeply. But the years went on.

At Thanksgiving, he called and asked for advice on a ring for his girlfriend. What kind of stones? Color of gold? Wide band? Thin? I could only offer what I liked. "When are you going to pop the question?" I asked.

"I don't know yet."

Christmas came. Blake handed me a large box. Inside was a lot of newspaper and, what's this? A ring box? I felt the instant sting of tears. I glanced to Blake. He was smiling. I flipped the velvet lid--and saw  the prettiest diamond and emerald ring ever. My breath caught. I could not breathe. I couldn't. The tears leaked. Still I couldn't breathe. Finally, I whispered, "You remembered."

"Yes, Mum, I remembered."

His dad had been a selfish man who resented me even the basics. I look back and can't believe I lived in such barrenness. The gift this Christmas was not the ring; the gift was Blake's remembered promise given as a teenager but which he never forgot. Surely this kind of love and generosity makes up for all the years the locusts ate.

Dear Lord: Sometimes when you make it up to us, we get far and above what we ever expected. Thank you.