I have been giggling with Jesus a
lot lately. I anticipate that soon it will be a full-out guffaw.
Support raising the last seven
months (raising my living expenses for Mission Year) has unveiled a paradox
that I live my life by: I have a deep desire to give gifts to others and see
them receive it with flourish, but am unable to receive the gifts given to me.
Like when Jesus and I talk—the
Mighty King of the Universe, the One who was and is and is to come—He says,
“I’m committed to you” and my reply is “I don’t deserve that.”
And as I look at my fundraising
page and see that more people—family, friends, churches—have committed to
support me for Mission Year all I think is “I don’t deserve that.”
Or when I’m given sweet words from
friends, or when I recognize that people believe in me, or this or that, my
response is “I don’t deserve that.”
My rationale? I didn’t earn that
gift, therefore I don’t deserve it. This line of thinking is nothing new in my life,
but it is one that this summer I have chosen to dive into to find the spiritual
root as I don't believe this thinking in my head, but I still find it sneakily residing in my heart.
*
* *
Recently, I realized that gifts are
given in freedom. The gifts I am given—financial support, care from friends,
and love from Jesus, are given in the freedom of the giver.
I never have earned gifts nor will
I ever earn gifts because that denies the basic premise of a gift—it is
something given out of an overflow from the giver. And the giver’s reasoning
for giving is theirs; it is not my responsibility to put a reasoning upon them
and deem myself as not worthy "so you, giver, should have never gave to me.”
My responsibility is simply to
receive the gift, or deny it. This is when I realized that my problem with
gifts had nothing to do with the giver, it had everything to do with me and my
inability to receive.
Jesus says “I am committed to you for life,
Amber.” I reply, “I don’t deserve that.” His reply: “Your inability to receive
does not make the gift of my commitment any less there and true."
My jaw drops as I realize the harm
that not receiving gifts has played in my life—the unmerited favor in my life
from Jesus, and from others. I’m robbing my friends and family the full joy of
giving by not receiving, and I’m indirectly calling Jesus a liar by saying that I’m not
worth His time and commitment.
And then I giggle in a way that humbly
says “I’m sorry, and I was wrong.”
“Come all who are weary and I will
give you rest” (Matt. 11:28) Receive, Amber. “Let the one who is
thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of
life.” (Rev. 22:17). Receive, Amber. Jesus in and of Himself is an
invitation to accept and receive.
Jesus didn’t ask if I deserved
grace, He just invited me to receive His grace.
A gift.
* * *
Living in a lifestyle of receiving
is new for me. I’m giggling a lot—when you’re used to reacting to gifts by
shutting them out and thinking you have to earn them, the simple action of receiving seems incredibly too simplistic.
Grace in and of itself is too good.
But it is true.
Once again I find myself stuck
in-between my own insecurity and the security of the King.
I will choose to rest in the upside down, radical Truth of the latter.
And I will giggle as I look at my
fundraising page and see that people have generously given. I will giggle as
the gift of honestly leads to grace in a dear friendship. I will giggle as people
intentionally reach out to me and spend time with me just because. I will
giggle at the words of edification and encouragement that are love notes with
little crinkled edges.
Because what else can I do but giggle and receive?
Help me, Jesus.
If you would like to give a gift towards my living expenses for Mission Year, you can do so by clicking here!
