The Mites We Give
The Christmas season can be a frustrating time for everyone as we try to decide what we can give to each person on our list. This can be especially stressful if you are short on funds, time or energy. It is often downright exhausting.
It’s funny how giving can be that way. Exhausting.
This is true whether trying to wrap up your holiday list, giving time to a local charity or simply caring for your family. Yet, the joys of giving and love for our friends and family remain something we desire so greatly that we are willing to overextend ourselves anyway. Giving is innately fulfilling.
Those of us with chronic illness also feel that innate desire to give, to serve others and those we love. At the very least, we don’t want to be a burden. However, things are often far more complex than just getting up to help or simply putting in more effort.
We know things were simpler and easier before we became sick and our friends and family have a general understanding of this. It’s a fact we had more energy, strength, focus, money and abilities before illness … and yet, we are discouraged by the little bits we manage to accomplish throughout our days now. This is especially frustrating when our spouse, parent, child, or roommate has to take up the slack. Even if this caregiver is understanding and sympathetic (which many of you are not so fortunate), this still induces a sense of shame.
You look around and everyone seems so strong. Everyone else is working, caretaking, cleaning, cooking, carpooling, grocery shopping, rushing, accomplishing. What are you doing? Using all your energy to vacuum one room? Maybe fold a load of laundry? It makes you want to scream to the heavens, What good is that?!
Your roommate comes home and asks what you did today, and you’re embarrassed to answer the question. “I uh … organized my meds and scheduled some doctor appointments … and umm … oh yeah! I did a load of laundry.” Internally you cringe, hoping she will understand and maybe be pleased about the laundry. You hope she won’t be as disappointed in you as you are in yourself.
“Well, you know what I did today?” she responds sharply. “I worked eight hours, then I went to the gym, then I picked up your meds from the pharmacy and then I got groceries. Now I suppose I’ll fix dinner for us. Sure wish I could spend some time resting.”
You are thankful that she is willing to fix dinner, but her words sting as you think, If you only knew. If you knew how much I want to do all of those things! If you could understand how hard that load of laundry was. The dizziness with bending over to get it out of the hamper and to put it in the dryer, the shortness of breath as I raised my arms to fold each and every piece and the rest I had to take to make the stars in my vision go away between each one, the weakness and fatigue with carrying the clothes to each room to put them away.
At the end of the day, how do we reconcile to ourselves (forget about others) the discrepancies in what we expect of ourselves and what we actually do? How do we internalize the gap between what we see all our peers doing and what small chores we can muster?
I will tell you how. Did you know Jesus addressed this very issue concerning us chronic illness warriors?
“Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, ‘I tell you the truth, this poor woman with chronic illness has accomplished more today than all the others. They all worked out of the abundance of their energy and health; but she, out of her illness, put in everything—all the energy she had to sustain her.’” Mark 12:43-44
Okay, okay. So, Jesus may not have said those exact words. Perhaps I changed a few here and there, but the principle is exactly the same.
Jesus was speaking about a poor widow. He had been sitting and watching at the temple as many rich people poured an abundance of money into the treasury. The givers enjoyed the attention the loud clanging of the coins drew. They wanted everyone to see just how generous they were so their gifts were given as publicly as possible. After all, if you are going to give a lot then why not receive some recognition.
But the poor widow? She crept in. She wanted to give more, but she had nothing else. She grasped two mites, each just a fraction of a penny—all that she owned in this world. She was embarrassed by the smallness of her gift, but even her embarrassment couldn’t keep her from offering the little bit she could. She wanted to deliver her gift unseen, so she tried to move quickly and get away unnoticed.
But Jesus saw. He always does.
So, for real this time, here is Mark 12:43-44
“Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, ‘I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.’”
Compared with the large impressive gifts given that day I’m sure some would have scoffed at the widow’s two mites—her two copper coins. I mean, what good is that? Especially in the midst of the plenty pouring in?
But Jesus saw. He saw it was all she had. He saw the great sacrifice it took to give up those mites when she had nothing else. The beauty of her gift and the motives of her heart brought joy to the Son of God.
Jesus sees you too. When everyone else looks on at the tiny bits you manage to accomplish and asks, “Is that all you did? What good is that?” Jesus sees that it required all the energy you had. He sees the great sacrifice it took because then you had energy for nothing else. The beauty of your perseverance and the motives of your heart bring joy to the Son of God. He knows the vastness of what you give … even when others do not.
Others see the fact you couldn’t keep working fulltime, that your income is small—like two mites. Jesus sees how you work each minute your body will allow, giving your all. And He calls you mighty.
You see others painting, cleaning and organizing at church work bees and you feel ashamed you can’t help. But Jesus sees you praying, spending time with Him and writing notes to encourage others. And He calls you mighty.
You see your house is dirty. He sees you straightening and wiping up as often as you can. And He calls you mighty.
You see the sheets go too long without being washed. He sees you sacrificing the clean sheets you want to have energy to provide clean clothes for your kids. And He calls you mighty.
Your spouse sees you didn’t fix dinner. Jesus sees you packed the kids’ lunches and helped them with homework. And He calls you mighty.
People get frustrated because you forget to respond to messages. Jesus sees how much effort it takes to remember and respond. He sees how hard you try. And He calls you mighty.
Where you and others see your lack, your failures and efforts which appear as useless as two copper mites, Jesus sees the motives, energy and discipline required to do what you do.
Jesus sees each and every minute mite you give … and He calls you mighty.
Jesus sees you. He sees your efforts—no matter how small and He says, “She put in more because she put in all she had.”