I can’t do it for everybody.
So the answer is, “No” to you.
I’ve heard that argument all my life. It’s logical, right? I’ve given that argument, too. Even today.
Daughter: Take lasagna tonight to the potluck.
Me: I can’t. I don’t have enough for everybody.
So instead, nobody will get any.
I’m beginning to question my logic.
I’m blaming Andy Stanley. Yesterday I listened to his podcast. He told me,
- Let go of the fallacy of “If you can’t do for everybody, do for no one.”
- Instead, “Do for one what you wish you could do for everyone.”
He said quit trying to be fair. Life isn’t fair.
I’ll add, grace isn’t fair either.
Aren’t we glad?
Even though Jesus died for everyone, he knew not all would believe in him. What if he had reasoned, “But if everybody won’t believe, I shouldn’t die for anybody.” There would go our salvation.
Or “If I change the laws of nature this time, she’ll expect it every time.” We’d have had no miracles.
If grace were fair, there’d be no grace.
Instead of being fair, can we just be loving?
Just because we can’t do it every time, can’t we at least do it this time?
Can we do what we can for whom we can, even when we can’t do it for everyone?
- Water the next-door-neighbor’s flowers, even though we can’t water the whole neighborhood.
- Send the sympathy card to the widow we know, even though the obituary page is overflowing.
- Buy the thin mint cookies from the Girl Scout who asks, even though we can’t buy them from the whole troop.
You don’t have to do it all to still do something.
Do what you can.
Your one act of grace won’t be fair.
But somebody will be happy to receive it.
* * *
Have you been the recipient of an “unfair” gift? Were you glad?
