intention #1: a plan for giving

A couple months ago I was flipping through a Family Fun magazine at the library and was inspired by an article with an ingenious idea for giving. I had been wanting to find a way to implement the idea but it wasn't until a car ride home from Wisconsin between Christmas and New Years that I found the moment to spring it on my family.

"I'm hungry," my six year old whined from the backseat, just outside Beloit. Not having food or a plan, I asked him what he thought we should do.

"Go to McDonalds?" he excitedly suggested, leaning forward in his seat.

Ugh. I hate McDonalds, which is why my son has been there probably five times in his life and why he thinks it's so wonderful. Plus, it wasn't dinnertime yet and a snack of fries would probably just make everyone feel hungrier.

"I have a better idea," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic, knowing this probably wasn't the moment to turn a request for fast food into a lecture on the needs of others. But, sometimes I really can't help myself.

Liam threw himself back and sighed. He knew all too well my better idea was not going to be french fries.

"What?" he pouted.

"Well," I said. "What if instead of spending money for food at McDonald's we wait until we get home to eat something. Then we write down what we would have spent there and put it that piece of paper in a jar. Every time we go to buy something extra or spend our money on something we really don't need this year, we'll think about whether we could not spend the money and write it on a paper for the jar. The jar will be our Giving Jar. We'll pick a special place we want to give the money, then we'll add up the amounts on all the slips of paper and write a check for the total. What do you think?"

"YES!" my son shouted. He really did this. My husband just about crashed the car.

"How much can we write on the slip?" my son asked excitedly.

We figured between french fries and drinks we'd probably spend $10. Then we discussed what or who we should be saving the money for. Because of our connection to Lithuania, we agreed that in a few months we'd add up our papers and write the check to our sister church in Taurage, specifically for the playground they want to build for kids in the community who have no safe place to play.

My son never said a word about being hungry the rest of the 90 minute drive home. I was stunned. Did this really happen? Can a focused family giving plan silence a kid who would give his front teeth to eat at McDonald's?

We'll see. In the meantime, we've started making our pizza on Friday nights: $8 for foregoing a Home Run Inn. And working at the library instead of the coffee shop: $2 for not buying a cup of tea.

I don't think of us as frivolous spenders. These days we're especially careful with our money. But I see this exercise as a good lesson in what we need versus what we want. And what we can give up - even the little we think we have - to help someone else. I also think we'll all discover that spending money doesn't make our lives richer. But seeing it fill the Giving Jar? We're already finding that that's a different story.