When Pastor Debbie asked me the other day if I would do a
Moment in Faith this Sunday, I said what I always say to her when she asks me
to do something, “Of course, sure, no problem.”
It didn’t matter that I was in a hospital bed at the time and she was
sitting across from said hospital bed visiting me.
I just kind of laughed to myself and thought, “Wow, Pastor
Debbie sure does have a lot of faith.”
When I went to see my doctor this past Monday morning, I
knew I wasn’t feeling well and I knew I hadn’t been feeling well for quite some
time. But I had no idea that she was
going to suggest admitting me to the hospital that day. And it goes to show how sick I felt that I
didn’t argue with her. The only thing I
argued with her about was going back to school that morning so that I could get
everything together for the time I would be out.
“You can’t call someone?” the doctor asked me.
“No,” I said, “I need to be there in person.”
On the way out of the doctor’s office I called ahead to
school and told them I would need coverage for the rest of the day and for the
week. I mentioned that I would be going
to the hospital, but that I was coming in to get plans together.
By the time I got to school, a crowd of my friends had
gathered by the door. I had come to work
because I figured there were a thousand things I needed to do. But when I got there, I discovered that most
of those things had already been done for me.
Teachers had been found to cover my classes. A friend was driving me to the hospital and
other teachers were covering her classes.
Someone else was making copies for me.
Someone else was driving my car home.
Someone else was in charge of the car key. The front office staff was taking care of
substitutes for the week. Anything I could
think of was already done.
Not one person asked that day, “Do I have the time to help
Kendra?” Not one person said, “I’m too
busy.”
Because true giving is not something we do with our brains,
it’s something we do with our hearts.
When I think of true giving, I think of the Stations of the
Cross hung up here around the church.
Everyone knows that my mother made those and donated them to us. In my blog, I have written more of the story
of how those stations came to be, so indulge me for a minute as I tell the
story again.
I think it was last spring that Pastor Debbie mentioned
wanting Stations of the Cross. At first,
I thought maybe I could make them, but when I thought about it, I knew I was
the wrong person. I knew the right
person was my mom. When I was little, my
mom lived to make art, whether it be paintings or crafts, she was always at
work.
Lately, though, over the past fifteen or twenty years, my
mom has not been able to do very many art projects, so when I asked her if she
would do the Stations of the Cross, she hesitated for a moment, but just a
moment. In the end, she made those
stations out of love for me and out of love for God.
My mom never asked for money for them. Every time I offered, she turned it
down. She never asked herself, “Can I
afford this?” because the answer would have been no. She lives on disability. She couldn’t even mail the stations until she
had gotten her check. She didn’t let the
“how” bog her down. She just
concentrated on the “doing.”
She gave from her heart.
It is only when we give from the heart that we are truly
blessed.
