Faith Lately: Learning to Receive

I don't claim to have all the answers or always know the right thing to say. But I do know that I feel things deeply and writing about them has always seemed to help. A huge life event happened to our family in 2023, and it changed the way I think about a lot of things. It deepened my faith and, at the same time, became something that has been difficult for me to process and talk about.

I use this blog as a way to document our life. I love looking back years later and reliving trips, birthday parties, holidays, home projects, and all the little moments in between. Truthfully, I write this blog for me. It's a scrapbook of sorts, and writing has always helped me process things, learn from them, and sometimes make sense of them.

So I'm starting a new series called Faith Lately.

Once a month, I'll share something I've learned through a sermon, Sunday school lesson, small group, book, life experience, or just something God has been teaching me along the way.

This month's post is super personal. It's about generosity, receiving help, and one of the hardest seasons our family has ever walked through. I hope you'll come back each month and join the conversation. If something resonates with you, I'd love to hear from you. Leave a comment, send me an email, or shoot me a text.

Faith Lately: Learning to Receive

At the beginning of 2023, our pastor gave a sermon on generosity. He challenged us to give more of ourselves, whether that was our time, talents, resources, or money. That morning, when I left church, I gave to the children's ministry and decided I wanted to do something more. I committed to giving something every week for the rest of the year. 52 weeks… yes, every single week! I talked to Brian about it and he supported me so we decided to do it! I even kept up every single week of what or who, to hold myself accountable.

Let’s be honest, with two young kids, two full-time jobs, basketball and soccer practice, dance lessons, homework, church, and all the other things that fill our calendar, most weeks my contribution wasn't volunteering. Most weeks it was a donation. But a few weeks I signed up to help with children’s choir on a Sunday afternoon, I donated some furniture to the rummage sale at church, cooked and delivered food to people who were ill, etc. The opportunities were plentiful. Nothing was too extravagant. Just an intentional effort to practice generosity every week. And if I was providing a monetary donation, it would range from $20-100. It just depended. It doesn’t have to be an inconvenience.

I was going strong and made it all the way through March. Then on March 31, a day I will never, ever forget, a tornado destroyed our home. I was numb. Our family jumped in and were ready to help. A couple of hours later my in-laws were also hit by a tornado in Wynne. It was a nightmare.

Very special piece of art to us-- Steve had taken from our home in LR and had hanging in our room at his house when we made it. So thoughtful, I cried.

Brian’s uncle took us in. He lives in Conway and we knew we needed to be semi-close to deal with all the things we needed to over the next week. Once we made it to Conway, had dinner, tried to go to bed. The girls struggled. They needed me and honestly, I needed them. I remember it being about 3am, I was laying in between the girls, scrolling Facebook. I didn’t know what else to do. My mind was running through everything we had lost, everything we needed to do, and everything we didn't know yet.

The girls playroom is still heartbreaking for me to look at.

Somewhere in my scrolling, I came across a post from the Arkansas Foodbank. They were expecting increased need because of the tornadoes that had impacted our state, so I sent them $50. It felt like the only thing I could help at that moment.

The next morning, Brian and Steve left immediately, and I hung back to get the girls settled and give the storage building places time to open. I called so many and finally found one that would take us. And guess what? They gave me the first month free. I left feeling so grateful for this lady, who doesn’t usually work on Saturday, who showed up and helped me. When I got to our home, men were coming out carrying our things—I looked at Brian and asked who they were. He shrugged that he didn’t know and that didn’t stop. People kept showing up. People text, I would tell them that we were fine. They showed up anyway. A crew of men from our church appeared, moving anything they could from one place to another. I walked into our townhouse and saw Brian’s cousin and her husband, putting together a bed and setting up the kitchen.

People kept showing up, nonstop. Not in an abstract way. In a very real, tangible way. Friends brought the things you don't think about until you suddenly don't have them. Toothbrushes, deodorant, shampoo, over-the-counter medicine. The everyday essentials that somehow become a big deal overnight. One of the Sunday school classes at church restocked our kitchen—spices, spatulas, olive oil, grilling goods, cookie sheets, pans, it was amazing! Meals appeared and they didn’t stop. They came every single day. Gift cards and the kindest letters in the mail, nonstop symbols of love and support. When I was in Conway, I ran into my old Bible study leader, who was also a Delta Zeta. I’m confident she activated the sisterhood and covered us with such love. Sisters from all over the south wrote to me. It was incredibly beautiful and kind.

A former boss, friend, and now boss again gave me an entire wardrobe. A friend from work showed up with a beautiful mid-century desk because he knew eventually, we'd need a place to sit and start handling life again. One of my very best friends sat on the curb of my old house and cleaned the girls’ barbies and brushed debris out of their hair. Then there was the jewelry box.

A couple days after the tornado, I took the girls shopping. We were trying to find things for their new room and bathroom. I think I was just trying to create some sense of normalcy for them, but we also needed things. When so much has been turned upside down, picking out a shower curtain somehow feels important.

Shopping at Target with the girls. And yes, I let them have whatever they wanted.. including candy.

When we got home, I walked into our bedroom at Middlekauff’s house. I noticed my jewelry box. It was on my dresser in our bedroom during the tornado. Untouched but absolutely disgusting. I don't know how it got to Conway, maybe Steve grabbed it or maybe I did. I can’t remember. The contents were a mess and honestly it wasn't even on my list to deal with.

But while I was out taking care of everyone else, Uncle Steve had emptied the entire box, cleaned every piece, removed the dirt and grime, and put everything back where it belonged. It held the pearl earrings gifted to me from my grandma Peggy for college graduation, the ring my parents gave me right before getting married, diamond studs from mamaw Hale, and other items I loved. It was spotless. I remember standing there staring at it and feeling unexpectedly emotional. Not because I had my jewelry, but because he saw something that mattered to me and took care of it. He had already done so much to help us. He could have spent his afternoon resting. Instead, he spent it taking care of me.

Someone saw a need I hadn't even gotten around to noticing and quietly took care of it. Looking back, that's what I remember most about that season. Not that we were helpless or without hope and promise but filled with love, support, and friendship. With Steve and Laura, Ben and Mary, with Allyson, Jake, Charlotte, the Rogers, the Genesis class, Amy, this is why I don’t list people because I could never cover all of them.

I didn’t see the debris piles, the headache that is insurance, the endless decisions!!! Decision fatigue is so, so real. And furniture shopping, it really is actually kind of stressful.

I remember the people, the meals, the gift cards, the “What do you need?” texts, family opening their homes, my parents being by our sides the entire time, the coworkers, church family, neighbors, family members, and complete strangers showing up in ways big and small. For months I had been focused on learning how to give. What I wasn't expecting was that God was teaching me how to receive. And if I'm being completely honest, receiving is harder for me.

Writing this post is hard. Even now, more than three years later, I still don't talk about the tornado very often. I never want people to think I'm looking for sympathy or attention. I don't want to be viewed as fragile. I certainly don't want the tornado to become the thing people associate with me.

Closing day!

But then again, I guess this story isn't really about the tornado. It's about the people and what happens when we become the hands and feet of Jesus. It's about showing up for the people in your life and carrying burdens that aren't always yours. It's about seeing God's love through ordinary people doing ordinary things with extraordinary kindness.

I started 2023 trying to learn how to be more generous. What I learned instead was that generosity is not just about giving. Sometimes it's about allowing other people the opportunity to love you well. And while I hope I never need that kind of help again, I will never stop being grateful for the people who showed up when they did. And I’ll tell you, it sure changes your perspective on showing up for others.

XOXO

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