I’ve discovered a strange kind of hypocrisy in my heart: I’m two-faced when it comes to money.
For one person, I’ll choose a quality gift that should last; for another, I’ll rummage through second-hand wares and call it good enough. For one person, I’ll take them out to eat at their favorite restaurant and insist they get a dessert, too; for another, I’ll take them somewhere cheap and stick to water. For one person, I’ll rejoice when they choose to celebrate a milestone; for another, I’ll cringe and question if such frivolity is worth it.
Why this discrepancy? And who is this “other person” that I’m so tight-fisted with?
As you may have guessed, the other person is me. I’m stingy with myself. I typically care for myself with far less generosity than I would any other person on the planet.
That first question is much harder to answer though. Where did this discrepancy come from? Sure, I was trained in frugality as a child, but that doesn’t account for the two-faced nature of my financial dealings. Or could it be that as someone who lives on the support of others, I’m hesitant to do anything for myself that might be perceived as indulgent or a mishandling of resources? That’s likely a piece of the puzzle too.
Money is a sensitive subject for most missionaries. We want to be shrewd with what we’ve been given, but what one supporter would call wise stewardship to care for family health, another might call unnecessary extravagance on a family vacation. Using finances wisely is complex to begin with, and even more so as a missionary.
But still, my hypocrisy isn’t fully accounted for.
I’ve spent more time during this season of Lent asking the Lord to “Search me and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23-24). And, apparently, our upcoming 20th wedding anniversary has provided just the mirror He needed to let me see this dichotomy in my heart.
My generosity has a limit, my love a fence. And where the buck stops is with me. As my husband and I considered taking a trip for our 20th, I couldn’t get myself to commit. In fact, when trying to make a decision, I got uncharacteristically emotional and, when I finally allowed myself to admit it, mad. Mad at God. Mad at being a missionary. Mad at the cost of obedience. Mad that somehow, in some way, God was withholding something.
I wrestled with these unwanted thoughts and feelings for several days, laying them bare before God, sharing them with friends, journaling them out, reminding myself of His truth to overcome the lies. And all these practices helped. For a few hours. Then I’d find myself back in the same frustrated, emotional turmoil all over again.
But God is patient, and when I finally quit trying to psycho-analyze and fix myself, I went for a walk. There, by the emerald green rice fields while the sun set behind the tree-canopied hills, He simply asked me, “Is it possible that I’m not the one who is holding out on you here?”
Finally I saw it: my stinginess to myself. I was preventing us from celebrating. I was looking down on a joyful commemoration of love and faithfulness – ours and God’s. I was withholding generosity from myself. I was treating myself as I would treat no one else (except my husband, apparently).
God’s kindness, His grace, His love, His compassion, His justice, His forgiveness is wider, longer, higher, and deeper than I could possibly imagine. The extravagance of His generosity toward me is unending. God is anything but stingy.
And while I am still a full proponent of careful financial stewardship, I also recognize that sometimes saving instead of celebrating is rooted in fear. It can indicate a lack of trust that my Good Father will give me manna again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. Like a child who devours her favorite meal and jumps down from the table to play without the slightest concern if her next meal would come again later, I, too, can enjoy God’s good gifts and trust that His supply won’t run out. I don’t have to operate from a scarcity mindset. My Daddy owns the riches of the universe.
If you, too, have a tendency to be generous with others but not yourself, I’ll leave you with a scripture and some questions to contemplate. Bring it before the Lord and listen for your own answer in all of this:
While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table.
When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.”
Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” (Matthew 26:6-13)
What is Jesus’ perspective on extravagant gifts given in love? Does it apply only to gifts for Him or also to others? Can it ever apply to me?
Photo by DNK.PHOTO on Unsplash
