Edible Benevolence

It was a good trade. I lent my friend Mark some DVDs and he gave me 12 containers of fish, chicken, and beef he and his wife had gotten on the cheap through their food co-op.

The government had Cash for Clunkers. We had Movies for Meat.

I obviously got the better end of that trade. I get to keep the meat; Mark’s eventually going to return my DVDs. But this wasn’t true bartering. This was benevolence.

As Mark told me, “We don’t have tons of cash to give to our unemployed friends, but we have lots of meat!” So that’s what he gave, and what I’ve been happily eating ever since.

It’s just he latest kindness that’s been extended to me during my six months of unemployment. The person I now think of as my Anonymous Caffeinator has sent me three different Starbucks gift cards in the mail. Twenty-five bucks each! Another friend—who lived through her husband’s unemployment years earlier—sent me a check out of the blue for $250. I was blown away. Another friend recently shared her Mario Triccoci gift certificate with me, allowing us both to get fancy manicures. I thought of her and smiled every time I looked down at my deep purple nails. A childhood friend sent me a care package filled with generous gift cards and other fun, thoughtful gifts.

Other friends have sent encouraging notes, taken me to lunch, fed me dinner in their homes.

And while all of this is testament to what amazing friends I have, and to God’s provision for me through all these folks, I think there’s something else going on here as well.

I’m realizing how much people want to help.

Right now I have a very visible, tangible need. So people are doing something about it. And I’ve been learning to be a gracious receiver—to humbly accept these acts of generosity. Without shame or a compulsion to reciprocate, but simply with gratitude.

These people have been able to help because of my willingness to receive and because of the visible need. My pastor summed this up really well a couple Sundays ago when he looked out at our congregation and spoke of all the needs present. He mentioned that some are really visible, like the high schooler who recently broken his arm and is now sporting a cast. And then he talked about his daughter-in-law who suffers from depression. Such a huge—and invisible—need. He encouraged us to be mindful of these silent hurts.

I thought of my loud, obvious struggle right now. And then I thought of all the other less loud, less obvious struggles I’ve had over the years. The ones I haven’t always shared with others, denying myself the help that’s been poured out on me in the past months. My pride, my fear, my self got in the way of the help I wanted and needed.

This season has been a great lesson for me in being real with others, even with our needs. Letting others be present with us in these broken moments. Because when they show up there—with a kind word, a prayer, a gift card—it’s a blessed thing indeed.

I’m vowing to be more open and more on the lookout for the silent needs in others. And as gracious and generous as my friends have been to me.

People want to help, I’ve learned. I have a freezer full of meat to prove it.