I Stole Her Generosity
Sarah and I operate our finances with a high level of intentionality. Each month for the past 15 years, we've negotiated and executed a budget (in fact, as I was writing this paragraph, she interrupted me and reminded me of a few items we need to add to this month's budget). The budget accounts for every dollar of income coming in that month, segregated into various spending, saving, and giving categories. When we encounter a possible expenditure of $100+, we discuss it. Well, with one exception: giving. We are very intentional about our normal giving budget, but not so much with the irregular giving. The one-offs. The spur of the moment. The little nudges. The instinctual gifts. If either of us feels called to give, regardless of the person, cause, or amount, we have the green light. If we don't have enough money in that month's giving budget to cover it, we have a separate bucket of money we can pull from. "Just be generous" is the operating model.
It took Sarah several years to embrace this principle. For the longest time, she felt anxious about unilaterally making these types of decisions. Eventually, though, she started owning it; she even looped the kids into the fold. When the nudge came to give, she gave. No hesitation, no second-guessing. Just be generous. It's been one of the coolest parts of our life together.
I recently stole her generosity, though. It was Thanksgiving Day. We were in a grocery store picking up some ingredients for our big meal. It was Sarah, me, the boys, and our two nieces. As we stood in the checkout lane, Sarah noticed two firefighters standing in front of us. They were in full uniform, with a cart full of food. Sarah leaned over to me, "We should buy theirs to thank them for their service today." Amazing idea! For whatever reason, though, I stalled out on her. "It's going to be weird trying to pay for someone in front of us. We would definitely do it if they were behind us." "That's okay," she replied, and the moment passed.
Wow. I whiffed. There's no reason we shouldn't have purchased their cart of food. Zero reason. Zilch. I don't know what sidetracked me, but I failed Sarah and those two firefighters. Sarah had a beautiful idea (or nudge), and I sabotaged her. I felt pretty lousy about it. As we were pulling away from the store, I said, "I really regret that. I failed. I'm so sorry."
"Just be generous" is a beautiful model to live by. I highly recommend it! Pull out the stops. There's something amazing that happens when we prioritize someone else's needs over our own wants. It transforms the way we view and handle our money. However, just like I did on Thanksgiving, you'll make mistakes. You whiff. You'll miss the moment. While that sucks, the good news is there will be another moment the next hour, next day, or next week. The moments are all around us. Just be generous.
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