The work of receiving
“Let’s go for it...let’s do the work of receiving the gift. Let’s be lavish in our celebration, in our receptivity....”
A few years ago, when I felt more Catholic than I do now, I subscribed, with 1.3 million other people, to Ascension Presents on YouTube. Many of the videos are hosted by the TV-friendly Father Mike “what-a-waste” Schmitz. But some of the videos are hosted by various nuns, friars, and less camera-ready clergy. One video I watched during this time that really stuck with me is hosted by the world’s most adorable troll, Friar Mark-Mary. In this video, Fr. Mark-Mary discusses the importance of celebrating during the Christmas season; he says the celebration should be equal to the gift—not gluttonous, of course, but lavish. So, you’re right, you should have a cookie with that coffee because, well, it’s Christmas!
Fr. Mark-Mary says the work of receiving at Christmas is celebration—opening the gift and opening to the gift. And at other times of year, the work of receiving is just work.
Yesterday, I was standing in the kitchen talking with my husband while he cooked dinner. I was tired—I’d gone to yoga and walked back home from the studio—and I would really have liked to sit down. Our kitchen is not an eat-in kitchen, it’s barely a stand-in kitchen, and there is no room for a chair. I mentioned to him that we needed a small stool for the kitchen so I could sit and talk rather than stand to which, I am sure, he agreed.
Today, as I was again walking home from yoga, I spied a small stool in the alley by the trash. It was in perfect condition, small, yellow (my favorite color), and free. And it I was about a mile away from my house. In order to receive this stool which I had so recently asked for, I would have to carry it home. I would have to work for it.
Schlepping a small stool—like an artist’s stool—about a mile across the city may not seem like that big of a deal. It weighted maybe 3-5 pounds (a couple kilos), and it wasn’t too dirty or awkward to hold, but it was hot, and I had already been walking for a while. Was it really worth the bother to carry this home?
But then I remembered that I had asked the universe (out loud) for this little seat for my kitchen. And now I had to do the hard work of receiving it.
Sometimes the work of receiving is simply lavishly celebrating a gift. But sometimes the work of receiving is harder—you have to accept the gift with gratitude or believe yourself worthy of the gift or physically haul the gift in. Perhaps a little yellow stool that will allow me to sit in the kitchen and talk to my husband while he is cooking is not the greatest gift of all, but it is what I asked for. And, in receiving it, I also let the universe know I am willing to do the work that comes next, while I am waiting.
