I Don't Want To Be Guilt Tripped

I went to Jesus Culture Conference this past weekend, which I'm sure would surprise no-one-ever by my social media activity. 

This was my second time going, and both times have been absolutely amazing. Worshipping along with so many other Jesus lovers, and hearing incredibly inspiring and passion inducing messages? Can't beat it. I'm pretty sure the Jesus Culture experience is a little slice of heaven. And if so, I'm pumped. 

At one point on the first night, a man came on stage to speak about a featured organization, Feed The Children. He shared a story about his experience with the hunger and poverty epidemic, and then he invited the audience to get involved. He set loose volunteers carrying packets symbolizing children across various countries needing financial sponsors, and as he did, my arm shot up. 

In that moment, I learned a very clear lesson about myself. 

I don't want to be guilt tripped. 

 The truth is, as this man spoke on stage, I only half listened. If I'm being honest, I had heard the spiel before. I had heard the grip-your-heart stories about world poverty, and the touching testimonies of the impact of ____ dollars per day. I have an incredibly sensitive heart that is often quick to grab my check book, so when moments like this happen, I've learned to put the brakes on. I've learned to put my guard up, and check to make sure I'm responding wisely, and not just out of emotion. 

It's true, I don't want to be guilt tripped. And I see the wisdom in that. I see that I'm only given finite finances, and while I wish I could support everything, I can't. I have to discern what is the best use of my resources, what I'm called to invest in and support, not be driven by guilt or impulse. 

That being said, I realized something this weekend. I recognized that I don't want to be guilt tripped, but

I do want to be God-tripped. 

If I'm too busy running my race to check out the opportunity passing me by, I want to be God-tripped. If I'm so stuck in my routine that I mindlessly make decisions, I want to be God-tripped. I give God full permission to stick that speed bump right in front of my path so that I slow down enough to hear His voice. And if I'm not hearing? 

Please, God, trip me. 

This weekend, I got tripped. Zero part of me expected to sign up for a monthly giving plan, but something in my heart moved. I may not have heard all of the details of the man's story, but I've seen my own. I've seen the children in Africa lining up for medical attention, only for 90% of them to be diagnosed with malnutrition. I've seen them beg for food and water, and while keeping my hand down at a conference might be easy, rejecting a hungry child is hard. 

Something in my heart jumped as I did the math, and realized that even if it didn't add up, it didn't matter, I was doing this. As my hand raised without hesitation, I silently prayed that God would intentionally choose my child. And guys, when I saw her? I cried. 

Christians can have a reputation of getting taken advantage for their generosity. We can be known for mindlessly giving, because we're called to. And really, I don't mind if I seem to add to that stereotype one bit. But here's the thing: 

I'm not guilt-tripped, I'm God-tripped. 

And I pray that He never stops tripping me.