Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid…BCP
I hung up the phone, letting my son, Mike, know that we wouldn’t be heading toward my parent’s with dinner as we had planned. We looked at all the food: there was a lot, and it was a meal we couldn’t freeze.
“Hey, let’s invite Bobby over to help us eat it!” Mike suggested, referring to his ever-hungry friend.
Bobby graciously accepted the impromptu invite, and joined Mike and I at the kitchen table for an informal supper. Conversation was light-hearted, the boys (excuse me, young men) retold school days and Boy Scout stories. They even let slip in a story which I hadn’t heard before but they figured ten years out was safe enough to tell me now.
We finished the meal in good spirits. Noticing Bobby was still hungry, I started listing things he could have for dessert. When the list got down to the offer of ice cream, Bobby shared that ice cream was a treat he couldn’t resist, and cheerfully accepted the offer.
Mike stood up, and walked over to the refrigerator. I knew that there were at least three different containers in the freezer. Mike opened the freezer door, then started to call out the names of what was inside.
“There’s French Silk…”
“Oh, yeah! That’s what I want!” was Bobby’s quick reply.
“…sherbet, Strawberry”, Mike continued.
“No, I want the French Silk”, Bobby was firm on his choice.
It had all happened so fast. Mike had broken The Ice Cream Rule: French Silk was Mom’s Ice Cream. My kids knew this container was Off Limits, and Not to Touch the French Silk. I felt a panic coming on – how to get out of the offer politely, with grace? Unfortunately, there was no reneging the deal, Bobby would have to get a bowl of the flavor he requested. And I was having a problem with that.
Somewhat detached, I examined my reaction: possessive, even though it was a brand new container. Granted, the container advertised twelve servings, and even though I never seemed to get more than six out of the box, I would have had five left, but, hey, it was my ice cream!
Sometimes, I picture Christ’s face with bushy eyebrows, outlining his face so I could read his expression. At this particular moment, they were raised upright, one slightly higher than the other, the expression on His face saying, “You’re kidding me, right?”
He had used a simple bowl of ice cream for an object lesson. My selfishness took me a little by surprise: I thought of myself as a generous person. I gave money, food and clothes to charities, time to others. But, did I give with all my heart? No, to be honest, I didn’t. I still held back. Not only my worldly possessions, but with myself as well.
Oh no! If God wants me to share everything, does this include the “good” chocolate I have hidden in the top cabinet?
© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011