By Carol Colvin

The church I attend was, for many years, a strong supporter of the Boy Scouts of America. Every year during the “Friends of Scouting” fundraising drive, the scout leaders in our congregation would call and ask for a $100.00 donation. We always gave, though a bit begrudgingly—especially during the years when our boys were too young to benefit from the program. My husband, in particular, disliked parting with that money since he’d absolutely hated his own scouting experience growing up.

One year, the usual request didn’t come when expected, so we quietly used the money we would have otherwise not-so-cheerfully donated. Then, right before Christmas—the time of year when money always seems to be stretched the tightest—the call finally came. We had to choose: spend the money on presents for our children or donate it to the Boy Scouts.

We thought about it for a while and finally chose to give the Scouts the money. We trusted that if the Church was asking, the request had God’s blessing behind it—and that God would honor our decision to be generous. We gave it for God, not for the Boy Scouts of America.

We didn’t expect anything in return from the Scouts. Honestly, we weren’t even expecting anything from God. We’d already learned that His blessings come in many forms. Still, we believed that if we ended up needing that $100.00, God would find a way to make it come back to us.

Just a few days after we handed our congregation’s BSA rep the check, Gary got a call from his friend Arlan. He needed help with a computer installation job. Gary gave up half of his Saturday, did the work, and earned about $800.00. Christmas happened just as planned.

I often think back to that experience and wonder: would we have noticed the hand of God that year if we’d never made the donation? If we’d spent the $100.00 on stocking stuffers, would that job opportunity have still come? And if it had, would we have seen it for the miracle it was? I don’t know. But I’m glad we chose to be generous—glad we sent the money out, felt its absence, and then watched as it returned multiplied eightfold.

Since that long-ago Boy Scout fundraiser, I’ve never worried about being repaid for my generosity by the universal storehouse of light, love, and intelligence. My attitude about giving has shifted, too. I will say, though—just between us—my husband is still very happy that our church no longer asks us to support Friends of Scouting. He must have really hated those campouts!

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