Do You Want to Know a Secret?

We all have a passion for restoring some of the hurt we experience in the world around us. One of my passions is working with people with disabilities. I once heard someone say that people with disabilities hold a secret to life that they only share with those who journey with them. I’m not sure how my passion for sharing life with people with disabilities started, but I do know that it’s been sustained by experiencing glimpses of this secret firsthand. Years ago, I learned a secret to generosity from an unlikely teacher – Mark, a young man with autism and an infatuation with Sam’s Club.

Mark played on a Special Olympics softball team that I coached. There was nothing remarkable about Mark’s athletic prowess; what set him apart was his seemingly all-consuming attention to Sam’s Club and his Sam’s Club member ID in particular. His preference to Sam’s Club superseded any other interest of his, including softball, which inevitably created challenges in keeping his attention on the ball diamond. Every week brought new memories of attempting to redirect Mark’s focus:

“Mark, pay attention! Look up!” I’d often shout from the dugout as Mark would stand on the edge of the infield with his mitt in one hand and Sam’s Club card in the other, carefully studying the intricacies of his card, while a softly hit ball would dribble past his feet.

“Mark, get your helmet. You’re on deck,” I’d prompt. “What do you think I should buy when I go to Sam’s Club?” he’d respond.

“What are your favorite hobbies?” I once asked as an ice breaker. “Sitting inside and staring at my Sam’s Club card,” Mark answered without even pausing to reflect.

To say Mark was passionate about his Sam’s Club card is a complete understatement. Yet on the last day of the season as the coaches and athletes were sharing thank you’s and goodbye’s, Mark approached me, and offering me that same plastic card said, “Here, I want you to have this. Thanks for coaching me, coach.” That’s when the roles reversed; Mark was now my teacher, and I the pupil.

Mark’s Sam Club card was his most prized possession. It was literally part of his identity; one of the few documents he possessed that actually identified him as Mark. And he was giving it to me! In that moment I realized how petty I was (and still am at times) with my own generosity. I often talk myself out of helping someone in need because of the inconvenience it creates for me; meanwhile Mark was letting go of part of his identity. I spend time doing the math to figure out a 20% tip. Mark on the other hand freely gave away his most valuable asset. “Sorry, I don’t have any spare change,” I’m tempted to say to the homeless person on the street. And then Mark’s legacy whispers back to me in my head, “Here, I want you to have this. Thanks for coaching me, coach.”

So, do you want to know a secret? As we grow in our generosity there are many resources we can access to educate us along the way. However, some of the best generosity teachers may be the ones with the least to give. I encourage you to identify a cause you are passionate about, something in this broken world that breaks your heart such as orphans, people who are homeless, refugees, people with disabilities or other marginalized and downtrodden groups. Then, begin investing part of your life toward those people. My suspicion is that you will find an unlikely teacher, one who will both encourage you and challenge you to live a life of greater generosity, a life more like Jesus. For me, my teacher was a guy named Mark with a Sam’s Club card.

Photo Credit: Nathan Anderson

Ben Berg is the Lead Generosity Coach for Dynamis Ministries where he works with individuals and couples to create Generosity Plans that help them develop their God-given potential for generosity. When he’s not helping others grow in generosity he’s trying to grow his own generosity through volunteer coaching at a local high school and with the Special Olympics. Regardless of age, activity, or ability, Ben enjoys seeing others make progress from who they once were to who they will one day become.