The Glad Giver

She handed me a cup of water. I was exercising at my gym and forgot my to bring my own water bottle, and due to the new rules to prevent spreading the coronavirus, we clients could no longer touch the water cooler.

"Your job description certainly has expanded during this pandemic," I said to Coach Eleisha as I received the drink she brought me from across the fitness center. Face masked, she nodded her head in agreement. I caught that smile in her eyes when she said, "Yes, but I am happy to serve."

She seemed to mean it.

I went on a three-day cruise with my mom and sisters a couple of decades ago. The ship's crew included workers from around the world. Many we spoke with expressed gratitude for their jobs and the ability to help their families back home by sending money. There was joy in their service, whether they placed a plate of food before us, refilled drinks, performed, or created fun designs out of towels.

I stood in a line at a service desk on the ship, and next to me stood a sign that read, "We are happy to serve you." Never before had I been the recipient of service so gladly given.

They mean it, I realized.

I scan my mind to look for times I've gladly given, offerings not absent of effort or sacrifice but given with cheer.

The time I came upon the last two packages of toilet paper in the grocery store and saw a woman on the hunt for the same. We didn't speak the same language as each other, but I waved her over, handed her the last pack, and we gave each other high-fives. We stood in the checkout line, while she in Spanish expressed glee at being able to find toilet paper. Giggles, smiles, knowing nods. I realized we shouldn't have touched then dug in my purse for some hand sanitizer I gladly gifted to her.

"God loves a cheerful giver." II Cor. 9:7 

God Himself gives cheerfully to us, and how I sense His pleasure when He sees us do the same for each other.

Can you bring to mind times you've received from a cheerful giver? Times you, yourself, have given cheerfully?

When have you sensed joy both in the giving and receiving? Think upon these things, and it will bring a smile to your face. 

And if this reflection blessed you in any way, please know it is my pleasure to offer it to you, like that cup of fresh water offered to me. I am happy to serve.

I mean it.

Packages, Poems, and Pressure

I received a text from a good friend this week. "I'm doing what you always do before your kids' bridal and baby showers," she wrote. "My brain is running wild with things I should get or what I will wear. It's exhausting and expensive!"

Her daughter's bridal shower is today. Her only daughter's only bridal shower. It should be special. It must be special. And Tammi is feeling the pressure.

We explored the angst a bit and concluded we very much want our children to know how much they mean to us.

I felt it before my children's birthday parties. I had this one day, this one event to express how dear they are to me. Would these paper plates and napkins make them feel special? This wrapping paper? This game for their friends to play? Would if I could I would buy them a ride in the Space Shuttle to show them they meant the world to me. What if whatever I do isn't enough? This fear robbed me of the joy of preparing for their parties.

Tammi's daughter, Kyleigh, is special to me. I remember the day her mom told me she was expecting her as we stood by the trunk of her car in the Chino McDonald's parking lot. I rejoiced with her. Tammi and I have known each other since birth, and our parents were best friends, so this is a longstanding friendship between our families. Our children grew up as friends and shared many happy times together.

Because this family is so special to me, I am experiencing some of the same angst I experience before I do something for one of my own children. I am helping with Kyleigh's bridal shower today. I purchased some meaningful gifts and wrote a family recipe out for the bride to be. I was asked to give a blessing at the shower and chose to read a poem about marriage written by my and Tammi's piano teacher. This morning I was searching the wrong book for the right poem I had in mind and was physically shaking. What if I don't find the poem I'm thinking of?

Something not so good happens when I think something should be special. It happened on my trip to Israel. The places I visited I thought would be the most special I had heightened anxiety about. The garden tomb, for crying out loud. Would that not be the most special place? I found myself mostly "in my head" at such places. Sometimes my brother, who led the tour, would say, "Okay, guys, get ready for a goosebump moment. This is one of those amazing places," and that, along with my own already heightened anxiety, always killed it for me somehow.

But the most meaning-filled times were when I noticed things that caught me off guard: the wind blowing the trees above me in Capernaum; the frivolity of my brothers dancing while my sister-in-law belted out in song, "Oh, here comes Jesus, see Him walking on the water," while we were on the Sea of Galilee; the little Jewish boy on a trail who, with a bright smile, said to me, "You from America? You are good here."

My Aunt Barb told me once, when I was wound up about preparing for Christmas, "Christmas is special not because we make it so. Jesus has already made it special. How can you and Jesus prepare for the celebration together?" I think of that this morning as I prepare to go to Kyleigh's shower. The event is already special. Kyleigh is already special. Jesus has invited me to be part of this joyful celebration.

Something I realized years ago comes to mind: I am not the whole bouquet. Women will gather today, each bringing gifts and well wishes, each bringing her affection for the bride-to-be. Decorations will be placed and strung, food will be served, gifts given, and love will be expressed in a way one person alone could not express love. It will all come together in a beautiful, one-of-a-kind bouquet.

And I get to be part of that. I am not the bouquet arranger, I am not the bouquet itself, but I, with my poem and packages in hand, am a flower in the hands of the florist, who is already there and is arranging it all.

And that sounds like enough.

Sparkle - A Blessing for Ashley

I almost said nothing, but I'd been thinking about it for a few weeks. "You wear your sparkly headband so well. It looks great on you," I said to a local Starbucks worker. "Every day," she said, "I come to work wearing my apron and my sparkles. Can't leave home without my sparkles." She stepped closer to me as I explained I have this extra sparkly headband at home I've been wanting to give her. The accessory shop, when I was picking out hair jewels for my daughter's wedding, was having a buy two, get a third item free sale, so I picked out this headband that really didn't work on me. "But," I explained, "I think it would look so pretty on you." Her eyes were filled with tears as she listened and expressed her gratitude. I wasn't sure whether it was for noticing her or having the thought to bless her, but clearly she was touched.

The next day I was leaving town and stopped at Starbucks with the sparkly piece in hand. Disappointed to see the headband-wearing barista wasn't there, I inquired of the person working the cash register about when she would be in again. "Tomorrow morning is her last shift," he said. "She is quitting work to take care of her grandmother, who is ill." He explained how dear she is to everyone with whom she works and how missed she will be. I borrowed his pen he uses to write on people's cups and with it wrote on the tag of the headband, "Ashley, keep sparkling every day."

I picture her now donning a different apron, in a sense, a different headpiece, serving her grandmother and brewing blessings and love in a different arena. I love to think of her crowned with the love of God and being the hands and feet of Jesus. And I say a prayer for Ashley as she cares for her grandmother and a prayer of thanks that God gave me courage to follow a tiny desire I had to bless her.

And to think I almost said nothing.

Diane Mann, 2016

Delighted to Give - About Taylor Swift (and God)

Today I viewed a YouTube video documenting superstar Taylor Swift's blessing some of her fans with Christmas and Hanukah gifts.   (You can see the video for yourself by clicking on the link below.)  Unbeknownst to any of these on-line followers,  she "followed" them in return.  She learned of their interests and activities and decided to buy presents individually picked out by her with each of these fans in mind.  The shopping, wrapping, packaging and sometimes the delivery were all carried out by Taylor herself.

The video records the obvious joy and thoughtfulness with which Taylor Swift went about her gift-giving.  Those who were recipients of this surprise showed teary, screaming, catch-their-breath glee upon realizing from whom the packages came.   Wow, to think the recording artist about whom you're head over heels would take note of you, research who you are and reach out to give to you is a lot to take in!

Most gifts seemed simple, yet all were well thought out:  a lacy headband, a plastic pouch displaying a picture of someone's kitten, a necklace.  With each delivery came a handwritten note.  "I had so much fun trying to think of things that might make you smile," read one note.  "I wanted to let you know how much you impress me with your giving spirit," read another.  A couple of fans in the video seemed touched that Taylor herself wrote their names.  They seemed to feel loved and known.

This stirred something in me besides the thought of, oh, what a nice person Taylor Swift is (and she does seem so very sweet)!

What if the gifts I receive every day really are from God?  What if he really does notice me and "follow" me?  What if He not only reads my online posts and sees my pictures but is attentive to my every breath?  What if He delights watching me open the gifts He gives each day?  That hot cup of coffee this morning, the scented candle I lit, the warmth I felt while coming inside from the cold, the strong hug from my husband, the joy of reflection while I took ornaments off our Christmas tree.  He even gave me the gift of watching the video about Taylor Swift today.  I sense He enjoyed watching me enjoy it, hoping I'd see something of Him in the spirit of the story.

As huge, big God gives such presents, He stretches His arms out, hands filled with treasures with which to bless me.  I receive the blessings.  As I take yet another gift from His hand, His palm is revealed. 

And I gasp in glee as I notice my name written there.


Diane Mann, 2014

Click on the link below to view the video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3yyF31jbKo