Cheerios

Today, as I was washing dishes in the kitchen, Matthias walked up to me with a Cheerio clenched in his tiny fist with his tiny arm stretched out toward me.  Even before I bent down to receive it, the delight on his face grew as he neared, his eyes fixed on my face to catch my reaction.  His little hand found my mouth and deposited his gift, and in return I beamed a smile, gave a little nod of my head, and said the most enthusiastic "Thank you!" I ever meant.  He smiled and chucked ever so slightly and ran back to the living room to get another Cheerio and do it again.  After hearing this exchange a couple of times, Jedidiah--who has all to quickly outgrown the delicacy of a toddler--charged into the kitchen with two fistfuls of Cheerios and stuffed them into my mouth.  I gave him the same smile, nod, and "Thank you!" that I gave Matthias, and thus my boys competed for my affection as the day began.

This little episode gave me so much joy but also rebuked me in that pure, unintentional, profound way that children often do.  The look on my boys' faces as they brought me their gifts is something I will never forget: it is what my heart should look like any time I give.  Whether it be to God or to man, my giving should be out of joy.  My giving should be out of love.  My giving should not look for anything in return.  My giving should not be a burden.  My giving should be a delight.  And also about receiving.  The way I received Cheerios from my kids is how I should react to every gift I receive.  I should never judge a gift, but always receive it as the most precious token out of honor for the giver.  My kids' eagerness to bless me reminded me what a blessing it is to give, but also how easily we can deny someone's blessing every time we don't know how to receive.

Lord, may I never give except out of a heart that looks like this, a truly cheerful heart, and when I receive, may I honor the giver by loving his gift.  And in both of these ways, may I love more like you.