I stood there staring at the beaded bristles for probably five minutes.
I don’t think I’ve ever purchased a brush in my life and I hope I don’t have to return to the hairbrush aisle for a long time. But, as I was standing there, in the middle of my rare grocery run, I realized the weight of receiving.

Since returning from Honduras in June, I’ve tried to stay out of the giant aisles of excess in supermarkets. It was a mixture of solidarity with a country I loved and a complete necessity to spend nothing (unemployed for 6 months) that kept me a safe distance from materialism… or so I thought.

The real reason I rarely ventured inside Walmart or Target (or stores in general) might explain why I got a bit emotional when I shrugged into my sister’s rust colored cardigan today after work.

I’ve done a lot of receiving since June.

I’ve crashed on couches and crawled under comforters and cozied up in cardigans that are not mine. I’ve talked a lot about the a la orden philosophy – how God asks us to make every bit of our gifts, talents, and treasures available to Him in our service to others. What I haven’t really talked about is how many times I’ve been the recipient. For six months, I lived under my parents’ roof once again, but this time as an adult. I ate their food, used their washer/dryer, drove their cars, and kept on receiving. Never did I see a tally or hear what I owed, but I kept on receiving. I made almost every Christmas gift with my grandparents, using wood and tools and raiding the refrigerator. The conversations were even more delicious than the meals; and I kept on receiving.

Every day I look down at my outfits and realize how much I’ve received. Boots from my mom, sweater from my sister, coat and jeans from my dad… every day I wear blessings. Every day I receive.

Last week, right when I realized scruffy skater shoes from high school may not be “work appropriate,” my co-worker plopped a paper bag at my feet.
“See if you can find anything in there you like,” she said.
(wide eyes)
I couldn’t have picked a more work-appropriate pair of clogs if I tried. That afternoon, I wore a new striped sweater home from work and ran in a fancy Nike running shirt before going to my second job.

And I keep on receiving.

Generosity has a fine aroma in the house where I now live. From dinner conversations to the open cupboard, it’s hard to spit out thanks as fast as the gifts pile up. So many times, I don’t know how to say it – don’t know how to speak my thanksgiving for all the blessings I wear around. From the bed to the thick comforters, the sack lunches to the family meals, the seat in a familiar row at church to the books on loan…

and I keep on receiving

Truly, too much.

Last night, I got back from work and my brother had pizza ready to go into the oven. Later, my sister walked in the door with several things on hangers.
“I brought these for you. I thought you might need something new in the rotation.”

and I keep on receiving

Truly, too much.

I put on the beautiful, rust-colored cardigan today and almost wept. God is so good to care for us so completely… even down to couches and cardigans.

oh that I would
let LOVE fly like cRaZy

my Saturday sountrack: Josh Garrels, Love & War & the Sea In Between (download for free)