Not the birthday blog I thought I'd write.

So, you know those kid birthday parties that are becoming more en vogue, where the invitation says sweetly at the bottom, "No gifts, please."

I hate those.

You really can't win as a guest at those parties.  You think to yourself, "Oh, they're just being nice.  I'll look like a jerk if I don't bring a present.  Everyone else will bring a present." So you bring one.  And NO ONE ELSE DOES.  You look like the lone, materialistic jerk at the party.  So you learn from your mistake, and at the next "no gifts" party, you do not bring one, only to find, to your great surprise, that everyone else did.  You are now the lone, stingy jerk at the party.

One invitation for a kid's birthday party I received took it to another level, where it said, "Handmade gifts only, please."  Um.  I know that as a stay-at-home mom, I'm supposed to have all the craftiness and DIY, pinterest-style abilities that are all the rage right now, but let me tell you something: I am missing that gene.  It got lost somewhere along with the gene that was supposed to help me appreciate Jane Austen mini-series' and Downton Abbey.  I'm still looking for it.  If you are wondering how I got through this particular birthday party, I piggy-backed on my crafty friend Nina's gift (an adorable home-made apron) and bought some little baking utensils to stick in the pockets.  I'm still sticking to my story that I hand-carved the tiny wooden spoon.

All this to say, we have always thrown the kind of parties at our house where gifts are welcome (certainly not required, but not excluded, either).  My son Asher just had his fourth birthday party, and I realize now that four seems to be the age where a child first recognizes what a birthday is and is fully able to milk it for all it is worth. ("Mom, can I play video games with you?" "No, honey" "But it's my birrrthday." "Mom, can I have two muffins, and a cookie?" "No." "But it's my biiirrrthday.")   At his party, Asher got some gifts, he got a cake, he got lots of attention.  He took it in stride.  As is often the case, his party didn't fall on his actual birthday, so there was a "birthday week" following the party during which cards and packages from family arrived in the mail.  Asher got a free birthday smoothie from Dutch Brothers.  We made him special birthday muffins on the morning of his birthday. We also made a special trip to Baskin-Robbins for his free "birthday ice cream cone."

Asher shared about 1/28 of one bite with a sibling after every ten bites of his own. This caused Nora to begin shrieking, which caused us to leave the Baskin-Robbins approximately 3 minutes after sitting down.

After a full birthday week, on the evening of Asher's actual birthday, we ran to the drug-store for a few things.  When I returned to the car where Jordan and the kids were waiting, Asher eyed my shopping bag and asked, with a gleam in his eye, "What's in there?" Jordan replied, "Facewash for Mommy, and toothbrushes for Nora and Abel." And with those words, there erupted a fit from Asher that made me realize with sudden clarity why people request that you not bring gifts to their children's birthday parties.  The fit was so extreme that I briefly pondered whether we should become Jehovah's Witnesses, eliminating the entire birthday issue.  I won't relive the tantrum's content in detail, but the general gist was that Asher was SHOCKED that I had the nerve to go to the store and return without something for him.  On his BIRTHDAY, of all days.  After much weeping and gnashing of teeth, we reminded Asher that he'd had a full week of us celebrating him, and maybe it was time to start thinking about someone else.  "No! I want to think about ME," Asher screamed.  Precious.

Maybe this sense of entitlement is normal in a four-year-old.  I vaguely remember from my human development classes in college something about how children are "naturally" self-centered until a certain age (umm...94?).  However, Asher's words served as a warning flag for me as a parent, and stirred up something in my heart that God's been speaking to me for awhile now.

Entitlement is not limited to 4-year-olds.  Rewind 5 months ago, and I was essentially throwing the same fit as Asher on my own birthday, December 21st.  My birthday is stupidly close to Christmas.  Every year I feel a twinge of self-pity when people have the NERVE to put Christ's birthday before my own. I throw my own fit, wanting everyone to think about me instead of buy toothbrushes and other lavish gifts for everyone else.  And I'm not just greedy on my birthday.  I've spent years taking the money, resources, gifts, friendships and other things God has given me for granted.  Jordan and I have family and friends who have blessed us during times of financial strain (Grad school, having three kids under the age of three, you know.) They've given us baby gear, a new washer and dryer, a car, the list goes on.  I wish I could say that this led me to also give generously to others in need, but I can't.  Instead, for many years I developed a strange, unconscious entitlement to being blessed.  I guess I thought of our family as the poor ones.  When I heard sermons about giving, or was approached by charities asking for money, I honestly didn't see how we could afford to give to something like that.  I had a mentality of receiving, not of giving.  Gross.

Like I said, over the past year God has not only uncovered my selfishness and entitlement, but has been stirring up a distaste for it.  He's changing my heart; he's reversing my spirit from that of a receiver to that of a giver, and it feels good and hurts all at the same time.  I could write a whole other post (or two, or three) about the people and things he has used to change me, but for now, let me just tell you what we did about Asher's birthday tantrum.  We saw that he was a little bloated in the receiving area, so he needed some practice giving.  We asked him to choose four toys (one for each year of his  life) from his collection to give to some kids who didn't have many (or any) toys of their own.  We reminded him about David, the sweet boy from Kenya who we've been sponsoring for just over two months (another result of God increasing our hearts to give). We showed him pictures of kids in areas of the world where toys aren't even the issue; having enough to eat is.

I expected it to be hard for Ash to give up four things.  Turns out, he thought four was kind of a lame attempt, and he upped it to ten things.  Included in the ten things were some of his nicest toys, and even one of his new birthday toys.  He gave innocently, with a generosity and a disregard for "stuff" that put me to shame.  I had to bite my tongue several times to keep from saying "Are you sure?" when he picked out things that I obviously valued more than he did.

What did we do with these ten toys?  Well, turns out my husband works for an amazing non-profit called World Relief, where he personally knows several refugee families who came into our country with only a couple of suitcases to their names.  Certainly their kids could use a few toys.  Asher took his box to Jordan's office and gave it to Robert, the sweet donations manager at World Relief.  Robert had Asher sign his very own and very first tax receipt, which was probably Asher's favorite part. 

Here's the thing: Everyone can give something.  If you make $44,000 or more a year, you are in the top 1 percent of wage earners in the world.  That's probably a wake-up call for a lot of people.  Our family doesn't make $44,000 a year, but we can still give.  Nowhere in the Bible does it say that if you don't have much, you don't have to give much (or at all).  Jesus honored a woman who gave her last two pennies as an offering to God (Mark 12:41-44).  The prophet Elijah asked a widow and her son to use the last bit of oil and flour that they had to make a meal for him (1 Kings 17).  Jesus asked a boy who only had a little bit of bread and fish for his lunch to share it with him and oh, just 5,000 others (John 6).  If you haven't read the ending of these stories, do it. Here is what I'm learning: It's awesome when we give out of our surplus.  It's awesome when we give, period.  But when we give out of our lack, when we don't have anything to give and we give anyway, that's when the miracles start happening.  That's where the pleasure and power of God is.  That's where I want to be.

Giving ten toys?  Sponsoring one child overseas?  Baby steps.  You annoying people who send birthday invitations requesting no gifts are way ahead of me, and I repent for calling you all annoying (but I'll still probably bring a gift to your party, out of sheer rebellion).  I have the sense that what God is doing in Asher and in our family is only the beginning of a journey he is taking us on.  Jesus said that where our treasure is, that's where our heart is (Matt. 6:21).  My prayer is that by the time this journey is over, there will be pieces of the Bemis's hearts all over our city, and all over the world.

 
Jesus also said that whatever we give to the poor, we give directly to Him (Matt. 25:40).  Well, Jesus, we hope you enjoy the ten toys we gave you this week.  We trust you'll put them to good use.