I’m Cheap

Pseudonymous

I have a problem.
I’m not proud of it. 
I have a curse.
In fact, I share the same curse as many of you who are reading this right now. 
Yes it is true—I am Asian; 
and I am cheap.


There…I said it. 
Whew!

In my defense, I was brought up this way. But the older I got, the more it strained my relationship with God. I passed by many a panhandler without blinking, intentionally avoiding eye contact to minimize guilt. But the guilt was always there. The guilt was often over-powering. So then I tried the opposite: I gave money to every panhandler I saw, even stopping to say hi to befriend him. But something was still amiss. My heart was in the wrong place. Guilt—or the prevention of it—became my motivation, when it should have been love.

Enter God’s grace. He patiently showed me that I had a problem; and built me up enough that I could admit this problem to others. Believe me, it’s not an easy thing to do—admitting that you’re cheap. It’s neither an attractive nor a becoming trait. But I will tell you that it was worth it; it gave a freedom that I’ve never experienced before. Now I know why they say the truth sets you free.

Since then, I’ve learned to slowly open up my heart (and my pockets) to give more cheerfully and generously. I now quite enjoy the act of giving—if nothing else but for the pure joy of blessing someone. But my sinful nature often creeps back into my life, and as a sinful person, I often give in.

Example:

Yesterday, I was downtown with a friend and a homeless lady asked me for some change. I smiled, looked her into the eye, and lovingly said a very polite no. Don’t judge, you do it too. Why did I say no? I could give you a reason after reason, but here are my top 3 picks:

1. I’ve seen her many times before; she’s always asking for a quarter to ride the bus. I’d like to see this magical bus. Who needs bus money that many times in a day? She must be lying. I can’t give money to a liar like that.

2. Maybe she’s has an addiction. Giving her money would then be giving her a means to feed this addiction. I shouldn’t give her anything at all.

3. I’m with my friend; I don’t want to make a big deal and inconvenience her. She’ll either feel obligated to give or feel guilty for not giving. I don’t want to cause a scene; who am I to rock the boat?

With those reasons in mind, I walked off feeling quite pleased with my stellar analytical skills. I tried to convince myself that I did the right thing, but deep down I knew that I missed a great opportunity. Those reasons suddenly sounded more like excuses, and I felt rather ashamed. For every reason I could think of, the Spirit was telling me something different:

The Holy Spirit Rebuttal

1. Yes, I’ve seen her many times; does that make her need any less? No, it would in fact, make her need greater. Who am I to judge?

2. I cannot promise what she will do with the money, but I am held accountable for what I do. Come judgment day, it will be I—not her—that God accuses of neglect. Who am I to judge?
Who knows? Maybe my friend would feel uncomfortable, or maybe she would join in the giving. Who am I to judge? One thing for sure is that it would have been memorable. We certainly need to be taken out of our comfort zone—all of us.

3. I missed a great opportunity. An opportunity to care, to give, to pray, to love, to glorify God. I walked around for 20 minutes looking for that lost opportunity, hoping to redeem myself. I never did find her.

On the way home, I opened a book to find a verse. It was as if God was twisting the hypothetical dagger in my heart for maximum penetration. The verse read as follows: If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them. -James 4:17

In a world of relativism and tolerance, good has become good enough. I had to ask myself, how often do I give God my good enough, instead of striving to give him what is my best? My answer: not often enough. Instead of giving unreservedly, I calculate to see how much I can keep. It’s the way of the world—the magical formula to achieves maximum results through minimal efforts. But we are not of the world; we are of God. When we give, we remember that God is worth more. When we give, we acknowledge that God is our greatest treasure.

So, that day, I did manage to save a few bucks. But the price I paid wasn’t worth it. I’m sorry, God. I’m sorry, lady. I’ll try and do better next time.