I find myself increasingly reflecting on generosity; in particular, I consider where and how we learn to live generous lives.

These thoughts inevitably lead me to my family of origin, and to my home church. When I think about generosity I think about my mother. As her life was winding down, my mother set in my heart powerful examples of generosity. Whenever I arrived to visit, she had a list of wool and other yarn that she needed for her next project that she would create to give away.

On increasingly frequent trips to the hospital, she would innocently ask staff for their favorite color and soon they would receive a knitted cap and scarf in that exact shade of the rainbow. Children that crossed my mother’s path soon acquired an array of crocheted pillows, stuffed animals, and character dolls like Paddington bears and even dolls that revealed all the characters in fairytales like little red riding hood if you turned them upside down and inside out. And there was love and prayer in every stitch.

My mother was even legendary in our family for giving away her household goods whenever she heard of a young relative setting up household her cupboards would be emptied in the cause. Overtime she would fill the cupboards again, only to hear of another young person launching out on their own. Then the cycle would start all over again.

I saw and experienced so many examples of generosity in my home church. I remember watching the joy and consistent service of the treasurer Joe Novotny and financial secretary Eileen Olson. I watched with a child’s scrutiny the rituals of care that they followed as they gratefully and graciously served with good humor. For me, they were the essence of generous giving and a positive certainty that the church would thrive through their care. Even while taking care of important duties, they were kind and lighthearted in a way that struck me as generosity: simple love and faith in action.

Despite these and so many more examples, I always thought of myself as someone who struggled for that quality of generosity I found in others.

On one of my final visits with my mother, she asked me to help her sort through her wardrobes. As we did so I would pick up a sweater or a necklace and say “this is really nice.” Often my mother would say: “don’t you remember, you gave that to me.” It happened so many times I started to wonder about my memory circuits. Then I began to realize that without fully acknowledging it, I had begun to absorb that quality of giving without expectation of reward that I so admired in others. One feature of generosity as a way of life is that it surprises us because we haven’t been keeping a ledger of what we have given or what we are owed.

How does it happen? How is it even possible in this upside down, inside out world we are navigating?

In my work as a Ministry Relations Officer for the Presbyterian Foundation, I visit congregations and individuals who are searching for opportunities to express generosity as fervently as my mother, and as full of joy and humor as the saints in my home congregation. I see new expressions of welcome and blessing such as the installation of charging stations for electric vehicles in the church parking lot with no cost. In my travels I see outstanding examples of new life through generosity. When I reflect back what I am seeing, often there is surprise because generosity is simply a way of life. At the Foundation, we even suggest that new life for stewardship programs begins with renaming of the committee as the “spirit of generosity” team.

In my mind’s eye I can see my mother in her comfy chair, with her knitting needles clicking and fingers flying. I see her nod in her way that signaled her approval. Generosity is the way.

Our faith tells us that God’s grace is free and unmerited and that our call is to respond with gratitude that overflows with generosity. Generosity that doesn’t keep score. What a blessed gift it is, and forever more will be, to go and do likewise.