The Playground Wisdom Behind a Generous Life

Ah, the ancient playground relic known as the see-saw. A simple plank of wood balanced across a metal beam once provided both thrill and terror to children on playgrounds everywhere. I personally enjoyed the see-saw—if I happened to be on it with the right person.

If, for instance, my friend Jennifer was on the other side, it was always fun. We were about the same size, and we were both kind children who actually cared about each other’s well-being. Jennifer and I could go up and down, up and down, gently pushing each other into the air and catching the ground with our feet before lifting off again. We never intentionally let it smack the ground so hard that it launched the other person across the playground—though (let’s be honest) every-once-in-a-while it was fun to give your friend a little “pop” off the seat. Sometimes we’d even see if we could get the see-saw to find perfect balance. That’s when the see-saw was a fun, safe adventure.

If, however, I was on with my older brother, it was another story. He was bigger than I was and did not always have my welfare or best interest in mind. In fact, he seemed to take a certain delight in my pain. I was often popped off my seat, nearly flying headfirst onto his side as he let his end crash into the ground instead of catching it with his feet. Other times he would simply sit on the ground and leave me dangling helplessly in the air, begging him to let me down. On one memorable occasion, he finally said, “Okay!” and just got off—as I plummeted to the ground.

And that, children, is why see-saws no longer appear on most playgrounds these days.

But even a see-saw has something to teach us. First, it takes two people. You can’t enjoy a see-saw alone—I’ve tried it, and it’s pretty boring. It takes two people who are willing to both give and receive for the experience to be enjoyable. Second, the see-saw only works if both people commit to the process. If one person stops pushing off the ground, the other is stuck at the top. If one person suddenly hops off, the other comes crashing down. The see-saw requires a sort of symmetry—what one person does, the other responds to, back and forth, in a rhythm of shared effort.

Something similar is true in our relationship with God. God invites us into a kind of spiritual symmetry. God has acted—and continues to act—generously toward us, and in response, we are called to live generous lives. God gives; we receive. Then we give to God and to others. God gives, we give. God gives, we give.

I once asked our congregation to raise their hands if they had ever been the recipient of someone else’s generosity. Every hand went up. If we had time to pass a microphone, we would hear story after story of people who were rescued in moments of struggle or blessed by an unexpected act of kindness. I’ve said it before and it’s still true: we need each other. None of us gets through life without the generosity of others.

Generosity was a defining characteristic of the early Church, and it remains a hallmark of those who are maturing in the likeness of Christ. But like any virtue, generosity must be nurtured through intentional habits and practices. So, what helps us grow in generosity?

First, gratitude. Practice noticing and thanking God for every good thing in your life. When was the last time you paused to recognize what you have—and what you have access to? Not just material things, but the people who support you, encourage you, challenge you, and bring healing or purpose to your days. Notice the opportunities that allow you to grow and learn. Resist the temptation to believe that you alone are responsible for everything you’ve achieved. Even your ability to think, work, create, earn, or build is a gift from God.

This past week, I have been especially aware of the abundance in my own life. Nothing extravagant happened—I just felt deeply grateful for good conversations, meaningful friendships, and opportunities that stretched me in healthy ways. More than once, I found myself whispering, “Thank you, Jesus.” I’ve come to believe that when we recognize that the good and beautiful things in our lives come from God, we become more generous people. Gratitude makes us more open-handed.

Second, practice giving. And I don’t just mean financial giving. Generosity is the steady, consistent act of giving from whatever you have—and we have far more to give than money. In the church, we ask members to commit to offering their prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness. You can be generous with your time, with your attention, with your encouragement, with your skills, with your compassion. So, don’t think you can’t be generous if you don’t have a lot of money.

Third, practice simplicity. The mantra of simplicity might be: “Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.” We live in a culture that pushes us toward excess—excess spending, excess commitments, excess striving. Simplicity invites us to examine our motivations, identify unnecessary excess, and let go of it so that we have margin to live generously. Many of us would serve, help, or give—if we weren’t so overwhelmed, overscheduled, or overextended. Simplicity makes space for generosity.

Finally, meditate on the life of Jesus. Read the gospels and notice how Jesus treated everyone he encountered. Notice his patience, his kindness, his unhurried presence, the way he listened, the way he loved. Read how Jesus gave up everything—all the riches and glory of heaven—and bound himself to us in poverty, so that we could have life. Consider his life and ask the Lord to help you be as intentional and generous with what you have as Jesus was.

Friends, we’re on the see-saw with God. He isn’t asking us to match His generosity pound for pound—we couldn’t if we tried. But He does invite each of us to reflect His generosity through spiritual symmetry. As you are blessed, be a blessing. Notice what you’ve been given. Practice gratitude. Give consistently. Let go of excess. And allow God’s generosity to flow through you into the lives of others.