Five Dollars

This past Sunday we were leaving for church and, as always, I went to kiss Pop goodbye. I'm a little bit of a weirdo, I guess, but I just cannot leave without giving him a squeeze and kissing him on the cheek. Should I go without a proper goodbye, I tend to feel unsettled and have to convince myself that it's going to be alright.

I'm on a tangent.

As I hurriedly kissed him and turned to go, he stuffed five crinkled dollars into my hand. Forty-five minutes later I was sitting in mass, awaiting the arrival of the collection basket, watching as it weaved in and out from pew to pew. Something came over me. I felt like a little kid clinging to some prized possession, buzzing with an eagerness to share it. Though it wasn't even my money, or much money for that matter, I was excited to be sharing in the act of sharing.

It was in that moment that I was taken with a new sense of joy in raising support for the coming summer. I was so excited to place a little piece of myself (or my grandfather) in that basket so that it might bless someone else...so excited that I nearly spilled the entire basket on my mom.

I recall one Christmas, back when Target still allowed bell-ringers from the Salvation Army, we were leaving and we passed by that iconic red bucket. I was probably thirteen and was receiving an allowance of seven dollars once every two or three weeks. I had a five dollar bill in my wallet and the sudden urge to give it away. I slipped it in that little slot. It was exhilarating.

I had forgotten what a joy it is to share in that way. Raising support can seem so burdensome and invasive. Who am I to ask another for the money to pay for my summer? My tendency is to believe that it is wrong to have my trip paid for by the funds of someone else.

It's not about me though, is it? It's about serving Him and serving others through Him. There are certainly perks for me in the process, but it's not about me. It's about Him working. If I don't trust Him to bring support in, then I am stealing the joy of another who wants to experience Him. Contrary to what I tend to believe, I am not stealing by asking for support, I am stealing by neglecting to ask.

And it only cost five dollars to remind me.

Good Friday

It's Good Friday. A day that is somber, yes, and yet we excitedly anticipate what we are to celebrate in less than forty-eight hours. This day is grave and miraculous simultaneously. Christ suffered immensely before passing on the cross, but it is by this that we are granted freedom.

He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed.

It's also Earth Day, which I find somewhat ironic and exceedingly less important. I like the planet, I do, but it's hilarious to me that the motivation behind many an Earth Day activity is the hope that we might save the world.

Think about this with me for a second. Then laugh. It's Good Friday. It is by our acceptance of what this day signifies that the world has true hope for salvation.