Gratitude to Generosity: An Invitation to Thanks-Giving

I've been thinking a lot lately about my college summers up on Pine Mountain in Harlan, KY, working as a camp cook for a Mennonite home repair organization. Maybe it's the warm weather or early mornings or time outside at the picnic table, I'm not sure, but I've been filled this week with immense gratitude for that season of my life. There were lonely times and burned out times, but all in all, there were wonderful times of deep friendship, God encounters in nature, journaling, DQ runs, pranks among the staff, grocery shopping with three overloaded buggies, sightseeing, staff devotions, circle prayer in the fog, driving up and down the mountain in the so-called Wagon of Death (a decrepit old station wagon that lacked even power steering), trips to the library, frozen pizza on the weekends, swimming at the lake on Wednesdays, and so on. Looking back, I'm awed by how God blessed me with such rich "mountaintop" experiences there.

Being filled with gratitude for the past makes me aware that someday in the future I'll recall my present experiences with the same affection and thanksgiving. So why not try to recognize the preciousness of this moment now?

Tonight on my walk I tried to imagine what will stick out to me a couple years from now when I remember my life at Sarangbang. What will I be thankful for looking back? Thankful for bowls of cereal outside at the picnic table, for long, inconvenient walks to the bus stop, for the verdant green gardens and rice fields all around, for miniature deer and wild pig sightings, for walks and naps on the mountain, for trips with students, for my housemates, for afternoons at Sungmi's house, for morning prayer, for even the somewhat dreaded community meetings. :-)

Walking along in this train of thought, I noticed a 30-some year-old African man from Burkina Faso--he works at the African Cultural Center down the road--stepping inside the village shop. On summer evenings, a group of Africans can often be found enjoying cold beers on the platform outside. Just last evening they were playing the bongos, and I could hardly believe I was in a little ol' valley with nothing but one living-room size store. Knowing their life to be pretty difficult, I suddenly wondered what it would be like to be that man--but without my Christian faith.

When I go through hard times, I find near immediate peace just by remembering my Father God, by remembering that He knows and sees and cares for me. When I'm angry, I receive the freedom of forgiveness; when I'm hurt, I receive comfort and healing; when I'm worried, I hear His promise to take care of me; when I'm down, I feel His presence with me; when I'm confused and have all questions and not a single answer, I at least know that He knows and He's trustworthy. And so I thought to myself, it must be so frightening and depressing to go through life without knowing God. How would I make it through without that peace of being loved and cared for as God's child?

And so I realized my faith--or trusting in Jesus--is the biggest thing I'm thankful for. How could I offer that to others? And I remembered Pastor Lukas in Eldoret, Kenya, and his persistent plea for an amplifier for outdoor revival and outreach gatherings. The amp. The amp. It's been hanging over my head for weeks. This continuous cry for an amp to bring the Good News to the lost, and my lack of funds and know-how for how to make it materialize.

I've prayed for ideas and wisdom, I've considered different kinds of fund-raisers from bake sales to English lessons. I've wondered what words would be most persuasive to possible donors. I've wondered whom among my friends to send requests to, and how to awaken their interest in a pastor in Kenya who needs an amp for evangelism. But tonight I got a brainstorm.

Gratitude is the spring from which generosity flows. To be generous, we must first be grateful. And if we are grateful, generosity will naturally abound. It seems Koreans know this. At least the ones in my church do. Every week, there are a dozen names printed in our church bulletin of the people who volunteered to cook that Sunday's lunch or provide flowers for the altar. Next to each name is a short one- or two-word description of the reason for their generosity. Sometimes the phrase is 결혼 기념 (wedding anniversary), but usually it is 감사 (thanks). Often it is 생일 감사 (birthday thanks), sometimes 입대 감사 (college entrance thanks), 졸업 감사 (graduation thanks), 이사 감사 (moving thanks), or even 심방 감사 (thanks for someone visiting me). I often think I'll wait for something big to happen and then offer a gift of thanks. But even now, in the little things or in hard times, there is still so much to be thankful for. There is no occasion or blessing too trivial to give thanks for.

So tonight I decided to give a thanks offering to the Church in Eldoret, Kenya to go towards buying an amp. It should cost between $400-$500 and there's no way I can afford even half of it. But what if you and I and other readers pooled our thanks? What if we each thought of 10 things we're thankful for, and gave $5 thanks for each one? Together we could buy an amp to deliver the Good News to thousands of souls craving the peace of salvation we take for granted. We could give them something to be eternally grateful for.

Will you join me in giving gifts of thanks? Over the next 10 days, I will post 10 things I'm thankful for along with short testimonies and pictures from Brother Lukas' church in Kenya. If you'd like to join in the thanks-giving, please leave a comment, send me an email, or message me on facebook. I'd love to post your list of 10, too!!! I'm happy to wire you donation for you or I can give you Brother Lukas' contact info so you can wire it directly. Praying to hear from you soon!!