I love Sunday mornings. Sleeping in, time to do my morning ritual (exercises, gratitudes, prayers, meditation and the like) without hurry. The Sunday New York Times. (We don’t buy another paper all week because it takes us seven days to get through the Sunday Times.) Then it’s three miles into town to First Parish Church. Sitting on the pew, I settle in and find peace in the faith and trust community. There’s a routine and a flow to the service that comforts, soothes, and welcomes me. After, I take in “coffee hour,” which often nurtures me once more.
Giving is a given for a church going boy like me. Today I’m looking for something a little more creative with my gift since we already pledge for the year to First Parish Church. After the service, I stop by to check in with Bob about his upcoming camping two weeks in Canada. I listen, ask follow-up questions, and that becomes my first mini-gift. With Hannah still on crutches, I am now the one who delivers the food donated at the church for the York Food Pantry. Today, I drop off a package of toilet paper, canned goods, and three boxes of macaroni for the YFP.
Today I give myself the gift of not having to give a dramatic gift. Most gifts are every day gifts. I think of these gifts as gentle, soft giving. I remain open to new opportunities to give, but I’m not obsessive about it. Today is one of those days.