That’s a good reason, if you ask me

At church this past Sunday, the pastor was preaching about money, and at the beginning he asked everyone to raise their hands if they liked money. A lot of us sheepishly did, acknowledging that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil and that we were probably about to be told that we shouldn’t; some people didn’t raise their hands, holding out that, because of their frugality, it was somehow an indication that they didn’t like money.

Well, not my mother. She was quite comfortable with her hand up in the air, and she looked at me and laughed. “I like money!” She then proceeded to show and tell me over the span of the weekend that the reason she likes money is not for driving fancy cars, or wearing fancy new clothing, or for fancy jewelry, or for financial stability and security, but because she likes giving it away. Yes, that’s right. She told us about keeping $1 bills in her purse and the joy of handing them out to people who needed them (or just who were asking). She showed joy in being able to take care of me, often telling me that she was sad that I didn’t live at home because she could never buy me groceries or anything the way she can her other chilluns.

I don’t know why, but the joy she got from giving made a profound impact on me, almost more than any sermon on stewardship could. I just thought you might appreciate it as well. That’s all.

(She pointed out when I asked her about this post that Johannes is generous… and Abbie… and Ricke… and plenty of people I know… which is true. This is just a story about me loving my mom. )