Receiving.

I’m not sure what’s up with this those post-blogs-while-it’s-barely-still-today thing I’ve got going, but I think it means that I need to start going to bed earlier.  I’ve always been a firm believer that nothing good happens after midnight, but sometimes good things happen after ten pm.  I’ll give you that, you night owls who may be reading.

I spent an evening with one of my dearest friends, decorating at least 200 sugar cookies, catching up on life, playing her guitar, and praying together.  I left feeling so full (partly because I was sent home with two containers full of cookies), mostly because it’s the kind of relationship that refreshes rather than empties.

I want to be a refresher, to be a presence that gives instead of taking.  Then again, there is a place for taking.  I have a hard time doing that sometimes.  It’s hard for me to accept things from people.  I take after my Grandma in this respect.  She comes to visit us and won’t let us wait on her (though we’ve learned to insist).  Oh, you just let me wash the dishes and give you a twenty dollar bill and sit in the back seat of the car where there isn’t any leg room.  Then I’ll go sit in the corner, and you won’t even know I’m here! She’s sweet as can be, the most giving person there is.  But it’s hard to give to her.  Not that she doesn’t appreciate it, not that she doesn’t love the things we do for her, but she feels bad if we go out of our way.

I don’t want to put anyone out for my sake.  But it really does give me joy to put myself out, to go a few extra miles on a dirt road without adequate footwear for someone else.  Not because I’m such a saint or anything, that’s just the way giving works.  So, when I can’t accept other people’s giving to me, I’m really robbing them of the joy of giving.

There’s humility in receiving.  It seems backwards, but it’s true.  It is truly more blessed to give than to receive, but in order to give, someone has to receive, and to receive well, graciously.

There’s another thing for me to work on. Good thing God isn’t finished with me yet.

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