Giving without the Sacrifice

I really dislike grocery shopping.  I don't want to say I hate it, because I really like cooking, and grocery shopping kinda goes hand in hand with cooking.  And eating.  I like that too!

But, I don't really like grocery shopping.  A) it's expensive, B) you've got to put it all away when you get home, and C) it's all gone again in a very short period of time, and you have to start all over!

Heather loves grocery shopping.  She got a gift card from her Nanny a while back, and when I was explaining that it was money, and she could go shopping and buy something with it, she asked to go to "stopshop".  It's very clear she that does not have my DNA.

That being said, once a month, when it's my week to shop and cook for the soup kitchen, I love going grocery shopping.  I look forward to it. I jump in the car, find a place to park (without caring just how far from the door I am), and head inside.  I don't get annoyed when I get the cart with the squeaky wheel.  I walk around, light on my feet, humming to whatever awesome music they happen to have on. I'm not rushing myself to get out of there.  I stroll through the aisles, light hearted-ly filling my cart with 120 servings of whatever we're serving that month.  I even enjoy doing the math to figure out how much of each thing I need to buy to get to 120 servings. That right there might be a sign of the Apocalypse or something.

When my math is all done (and I've called someone to confirm that I'm actually buying enough food), I head up to the checkout.  I joyfully empty the cart I just filled (see... grocery shopping is so counter-productive!!). I watch with a smile on my face as large quantities of food get rung up.  I laugh when the lady says "wow.. that's a lot of meatballs".  "Soup kitchen," I say, feeling all warm and fuzzy (and perhaps just a tad prideful) inside.

And then she gives me the total for my order.

And immediately, I cringe inside.  My heart shrivels up a bit, Grinch-style, and I begin thinking about everything else I could do with that amount of money.  I start thinking about what I need.  What I want. What Heather needs. I think about the fact that I need to repaint Zoe's room from the destruction of the last child who lived in there.  I start thinking about how much I don't like my bathroom, and the fact that I really need a 2nd one.  I start thinking about the gas that I need to get to the Cape for work. I start thinking about books I want to read, and music I want to buy.

I start thinking about me.

I forget about the fact that we're feeding 120 people with that money.  I forget about that fact that some of them don't have any bathrooms.  I forget about the fact that this meal might be the only one they get until Sunday, when the soup kitchen opens again.  I forget about the fact that my "needs" pale in comparison to theirs. 

I want the blessing, without the sacrifice.  I want to give, but I don't want it to cost me anything.  I want my heart AND my wallet to both be full. I want to spend my time serving others, and still have all the time in the world for me. I want to 'store up treasures in heaven', but enjoy them here on earth.

I could list off all the scriptures that tell us to give. Cheerfully, freely, without boasting, in secret. More blessed to give than receive.  But we've heard them all before.  We know them, can quote them. We pull them out whenever we have a worthy cause we want people to help us support.

I'm looking for the scripture that tells me how to fix my heart.  The one that reminds me that Christ did not sacrifice his life for me so that I could have the best of both worlds. The one that says, "Brooke, stop thinking of yourself. You don't need anything. You have ME.  That's enough."  (You know I'm totally in the Bible right?)

In John 14:8, Philip says to Christ, "show us the Father, and that will be enough for us."

Of course Jesus replies with, "umm, hello, don't you know Who I am?  And you still ask to see the Father?"  (that's my translation, obviously)

I know who He is.  I want Him to be enough.

Ephesians 6:7 says, "Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men."

Tonight at the soup kitchen, I will choose to see Him in every person who walks through the door. I will not see the tattered clothes. I will not smell the stench of days on the streets. I will not see the liquor bottles in their bags. I will not question their hearts, and I will not judge their circumstances. 

Tonight, every time the price of all that food crosses my mind, I'm going to make sure I remember that I bought it for the One who gave me everything.  The One who gave up His riches, His crown, His very life for me.



Brooke