It’s my wife’s birthday, and I’m the one who’s overly excited. This happens every year. It’s not that she’s afraid of birthdays, or anything like that. In fact, I’d say, she gets an appropriate amount of joy from her birthday, for an adult.

But it’s not that I’m too concerned about it being her birthday. I don’t really care much about my birthday either. Aside from a changed number in an occasional form-field, little changes on one’s birthday. I think of it not as her birthday but as her day. And on this day I have even more allowance to do small, thoughtful things for her. I live by the theory that says it’s more effective to be consistently nice in a manageable, controlled way, than it is to follow the calendar with a tremendous gift on prescribed days. That being said, there are some years in which I am able to go all out with a gift I’m really proud of, one that I’ve considered for months in advance. But, when you get right down to it, I think it’s more meaningful to come up with smaller ideas for people. I may not be able to buy her a pair of diamond earrings this year, but I sure know how to hide a hot coffee in the back of the refrigerator so that she’ll have a surprise iced coffee when she wakes up. I’ve been planning and planting these little surprises all week, and I have been very happy.

Why is it, then, that it feels so rewarding to do small things for someone you love? We have a running joke in the house that I’m good for “small errands”. This colloquialism has even slipped into the vocabulary of others close to us. I’ve spoken previously to the fact that I tend to be overactive at home. I have difficulty sitting still, and frequently think about what needs to be accomplished. For this reason, often times my wife will send me out on some such small errand. Go to the library, Pick up breakfast, Get a car wash. These little tasks keep me busy for a few minutes, and I come home feeling like I’ve really done something big for us. Honestly, I’m not sure any of these small errands make her much happier than if I’d just stayed at home with her. But they do keep me busy (and give her a few minutes of peace).

Small Errands

Small errands designed directly for someone else, now those serve an entirely different purpose. It is only when channeled toward someone else that this need for accomplishment bursts from its task list check box and actually starts to make me feel differently.

That chilled hot coffee, now repositioned front and center in our refrigerator, and its complementary tray of coffee ice cubes in the freezer above was on my mind for three days. Initially, I thought, wouldn’t it be nice if she could wake up long after I’d left for work, but have a special treat that didn’t require any effort or going anywhere; some way in which she could feel like I had been there to greet her on this special day. Ideas such as this make their way through several stages as I determined the wheres, hows, and whens. In this case, a few dollars spent using a Starbucks gift card gave me days of positive energy and allowed her something to look forward to on her birthday morning. As I write this post, I received a confirming text message from her: “Mmmmm.” And this is just one instance of the sort of things I’ve done for her this week.

I think people often go over the top (and are subsequently let down by) planning celebrations that they themselves would like to experience. Very few people seem to want to think about other people from the correct vantage point. It does no one any good if Harry plans a treat for Sally that Harry would want Sally to give him. Instead, Harry needs to think deeply about what Sally would enjoy, and follow that path. It’s entirely about perspective.

I’m reminded of a Sunday several years ago in which a student pastor was assigned his first sermon on the legacy of Jonathan Edwards. Our modern community of liberal thinkers may have inherited his name, but have progressed to a theology that is far from that which would have led our founders to adopt his name 175 years ago. This student had quite a challenge ahead of him, yet he spun the most eloquent message around the assignment, advising us to deal with our missions with as much passion as Edwards had had for his, centuries earlier. They are not the same missions, but we should address them to the same degree. Brilliant.

Very little gets you closer to other people than putting yourself in their minds, dreaming about their missions, their interests, and pursuing them passionately.

Concentric Circles of Generosity

Understandably, my wife is everything to me. The problem is that I have found that I’m really inherently capable of sustaining this level of dedication to just one person at a time, with concentric circles of “small, thoughtful things” radiating outward. Those circles change from time to time, throughout the year, based on special occasions, or need, of course, but they never leave me feeling like I’ve helped enough people, or brightened enough lives.

I never worry that I haven’t done “enough” for my wife, on her birthday or any day of the year. But I nearly always feel that way for nearly everyone else in my life. My concentric circles get too dense, too quickly for me to keep up. Right now, I can name several people for whom I could have done something special in the past few months, but I felt that I simply didn’t have the time or energy. Worse, in many cases, I feared that what I could offer would come across as trivial. In my right mind, I know this is foolish thinking, because I have seen from both sides how far a simple greeting card or positive email can go to cheering someone, yet it remains a struggle I face as I examine my own value to others.

But what about that silly cup of coffee I keep puffing myself up about? It made me feel good, not because it was a grand gift that required a lot of sacrifice or resources, and not because this tea-only drinker would have wanted the same in return. I was rewarded because I’d correctly matched my gesture to an actual desire.