I am entrusted with the gifts of God

Being entrusted with God’s gifts sounds like a responsibility I could easily mishandle.

What if I fail to share them well? What if fear interrupts, my patience runs out, or I say something ordinary when the moment seems to require wisdom?

But perhaps the gifts are not fragile objects placed in my unreliable care.

They are love, peace, forgiveness, and joy—and I keep them by allowing them to move through me.

The gift may look very ordinary in practice.

Someone tells me they are overwhelmed, and I resist the urge to improve their perspective. I listen long enough for them to hear their own next step. I send the note, make the meal, admit I was wrong, or become quiet instead of filling uncertainty with advice.

These actions do not create the gifts. They give the gifts a form that can be received here.

I once hesitated to contact someone who was going through something difficult because I did not know what to say. I imagined that reaching out required the right words.

Eventually I sent a simple message: I am thinking of you. You do not need to respond.

The gift was not eloquence. It was presence without demand.

I am entrusted with God’s gifts because every mind is capable of carrying what belongs to all of us. I do not need a special role, spiritual authority, or perfect emotional state.

I only need enough willingness not to keep the gift locked inside my fear of offering it badly.

Today I want to notice the gift already available in the situation before me.

It may be patience, honesty, encouragement, or the dignity of allowing someone to make their own choice.

What I give is not depleted by giving.

Each time the gift passes through me, I recognize that I was never merely its caretaker. I was also one of its intended recipients.