So I have this funny disorder which Jeff calls “non-buyer’s remorse.”  Unlike buyer’s remorse, I always regret having not purchased the item I find when I’m out and about.  This is because spending money is still like pulling teeth for me, and I have the most ridiculous time actually making my hand reach out, take the item, and make the purchase.  Of course I can buy groceries, and I love getting deals on house stuff or clothes, but it’s still hard for me and so often I’ll come home from a shopping trip, tell Jeff about some amazing thing I saw or some super cool sale I found, and he’ll say, “So did you buy it?” and I, almost without fail, say, “No…I just couldn’t decide.” Of course this can be good, and I really do think that it saves us money, but it can also be ridiculous and crippling.

For example, it’s ridiculous because I have a very limited amount of time in which to do my shopping, so if I don’t get something while I have the chance, the chance is over.  This means that on more occasions than I care to admit, I find myself showing up for some party or event empty handed, wishing I had spent the stupid money to have something to give.  It is a horrible habit that I can’t decide what to get someone for a birthday or special occasion and so then the time comes and I run out of time and so I either don’t have anything to give or it’s some ugly homemade card with a lame  “sorry I don’t have something cool for you” note written inside.

It’s an awful feeling to not have anything to give.

Today I drove to Multnomah Seminary, something I hadn’t done in a while, and drove up the familiar Glisan off-ramp where homeless people always stand and ask for food and money.  When I went to class regularly, I always tried to think ahead and pack a banana or protein bars or something so I could have something to give them.  But as I took that familiar off-ramp, instinctively I thought of the people and realized, “Oh shoot! I don’t have anything to give!”  I hate that feeling.

So yesterday I made a conscious effort to overcome this disorder.  I knew I had a special someone’s special day coming up, and I knew what I wanted to do.  But when the time came to do it, to make the purchase, to go for it, poor Jeff (who was with me) had to listen to me say at least a dozen times, “I don’t know.  Should I buy it? I don’t know. I’ll just wait.”  Well he knew that was stupid because I certainly wouldn’t be returning to this particular place again, so he made a smart decision: “I’m going to go get the car, and by the time I pull up you need to have purchased something.”  Viola!  I did it.  And you know what? I’m so glad I did, because now I know that when this special day arrives, I’ll have something to give.

Why is it such a bad feeling, to not have something to give?  Because it communicates, “I didn’t actually give your [birthday, wedding, Christmas gift] that much thought. I didn’t actually think about it at all because it doesn’t really matter that much to me.  Of course I purchased food for myself and put gas in my car and picked out an outfit for myself to wear, but I didn’t think about you enough or care about you enough to take the time and money to prepare something to give you.  I just didn’t really care that much.”

Sad.

I wonder how we will feel when the most glorious special event of all time comes?  When Jesus returns or calls us home.  I wonder how we will feel when we are given the opportunity to present to Him our good works, when we are given opportunity to cast our crown at His feet, when we will lay it all before Him in adoration.

How tragically awkward that will feel if we have nothing to give.  At any moment He could call us home or return for us.  No time to scrap together a homemade card of good works, no time to run to Target and toss together a golden crown to cast at His feet.  What we have is what we have.  And I can’t imagine a more awful feeling than to have to say to the Savior, “I didn’t actually give You that much thought. I didn’t actually think about it at all because it didn’t really matter that much to me. Of course I purchased food for myself and put gas in my car and picked out an outfit for myself to wear, but I didn’t really think about You enough or care about You enough to take the time and money to prepare something to give you.  I just didn’t really care that much.”

I don’t want to meet Jesus empty-handed.  Of course our salvation is only by His grace, a gift HE gives to us.  But we can invest our time and money and energy here on earth to lay up treasures in heaven, treasures we can lay before Him, cast at His feet, gloriously exulting in the joy that is having something to give to our most precious Savior.  I pray God would allow me to remember that awful feeling–of arriving empty-handed–to drive me to prepare to meet my Jesus.  I just want to make sure I have something to give.

Share This